#sorry shone i don't think there is any chance of you coming between these too

[peachblossomdrama]

Shy

[toskarin]

THE WAY OF ALL FLESH 《万人の途》

You need not hurry, We've got all the time in the world.

My memory has failed sadly of late.

He is violently pessimistic.

It is wildly unlikely.

There is all the difference in the world between the two.

make an unholy fuss about very little.

Dear me! What a sorry mess everything is in!

The painting is a rank imitation.

a gross mistake.

a crushing bore.

with no earthly reason.

be crass ignorance.

every trick in the book.

They have all the advantages in the world.

go native. go bust.

The proposal came one vote short of unanimous approval.

I can't reach the buttons on the back. Will you do them for me?

So many movies have had this plot that it has been done to death.

Things don't go so well in real life.

It will go hard with him if he is found out.

It makes no difference no matter which way the election goes.

some people still can go without paying taxes.

look full in the face.

The sun shone in our faces.

One and one makes one.

These make a pair.

make the passing mark.

The seal is missing on the document.

The lace on one of my shoes had god undone.

I wouldn't want to be quoted on this.

I'm not much on putting those things into words.

be short on imagination.

It seems he got mixed up on his instructions.

Who is going to take you up on your offer!

He erred grossly on that problem.

a toy balloon on a string.

a dog on a chain.

be a black mark.

He is the sort of man whose personal charm grows on you on acquaintance.

Wherever did you put?

It was a good joke, but fell flat on him.

The mood grew on me.

My mind was not on it.

be borne in on one.

Shame on you!

an experiment on animals.

It is too late to perform an operation on him.

You ought to be harder on him.

Acids act upon metals.

It is unfair on you.

His voice grates upon my ear.

The drinks are on me.

Do you know you are taking a great deal on yourself?

Don't tell on me.

She seems to have something on him.

play a neat trick on a person.

get die on a person.

They have nothing on us.

Age has begun to tell on me.

No use trying to pull such a trick on me.

be on trial.

He is unable to hold anything on his stomach.

The scene was on.

I lay awake thinking over it all last night.

I had to rack my brains over that problem.

She hesitated over her answer.

ride roughshod over the objection.

Don't pull that line on me.

pull a sanctimonious face.

He never pulls his rank.

We are running short of gas.

Time is running short on me.

One's devil's luck runs out.

Finally she ran out of patience.

The watch has run down.

let one's imagination run riot.

run short of topics for conversation.

That is not the way the world is run.

run a machine at a high voltage.

run a person on a lie detector.

leave a motor running.

He stands small chance against you.

Kids run a high temperature over nothing in particular and snap out of it.

investigate a matter to the ground.

criticize severely.

You are worn to a shadow.

boring to distraction.

It has been done to death.

The bag was filled to bursting with sugar.

What are you seeing?

They were killed to a man.

It is done to a turn.

There is another side to the coin.

There's not enough depth to the story.

There is more to it than that.

There was no jerk to his motions.

That is about all there is to it.

The words had an ironical ring.

Have you any clue to work on?

The brakes refused to work.

The machine was still in fine working order.

The plan worked remarkably well.

It is very well in theory, but will it work?

His reason ceased to work.

Flattery will not work with him

It might work and again it might not work

I'm afraid it won't work so well.

Our plan worked successful.

The trick won't work with him.

The handle doesn't work.

The warning seemed to work most effectively.

Her face worked fiercely.

The screw had worked loose.

work a spear through one's hands.

They will work you to death.

He worked on a smile that didn't quite come off.

There is no knowing how that will work itself out.

This problem will not work out.

The safe opened to the key.

a ticket to a movie.

exit to applause.

The medicine worked into the wounded skin.

Oh! I'm inside out!

You are unzipped.

No stopover on this ticket.

try to enter a country on an expired passport.

I'll come again when you are free.

The question is who will bell the cat.

The fact that he was sick was not very impressive to her.

You asked for it.

untie a tight knot.

The girl couldn't word her feelings well.

Does he really mean it? I wonder.

Let him do his worst.

a would-be kindness.

Did she agree with you?

Turn your face toward me.

I don't think I can do it,but I'll try.

What is true of them is equally true of you.

They trumped up a charge to put him in jail.

Think it over carefully before you decide.

What are you talking about?

He bothered me with stupid questions.

Can it really be mine?

Don't calculate on me helping you.

No one called my attention to it.

Watch when you talk about religion.

You have the advantage of me.

They shouted to the utmost of their strength.

She never gave utterance to her personal feelings.

There were very few passengers in the train.

How much use did you get out of the machine?

It's not us that tried to upset their plans.

There was a chasm yawning in front of us.

Let me see,where was I?

Where did the plan go wrong?

work out one's idea of one's role.

To live is to suffer.

This is playing with words.

know what you mean.

What do you see?

You ought to have been more careful.

You need not have come.

Who do you think you are?

I have no idea what the word means.

ARRIVE ON THE EDGE

YOU RECAPTURED KARNEL OF THE LOST ARTICLE

AND THE ORDER IS TOTALLY OVER.

[username8746489]

Prompt, the boys are working on their comic at the art room when it starts to rain outside. They have to decide if they're gonna wait the rain out or try their luck going outside.

"What do you think of this akuma design?" Nathaniel asked, holding up his sketchbook.

Marc oohed at it in awe, eyes sparkling as he rambled, "I really like it! I love the way you used the same color palette as the last akuma to emphasize the relationship between the two! Ooh, and the weapon is going to be so much fun to write for!"

Nathaniel blushed, hiding his smile behind the cover of his book.

Their talk was interrupted by a flash of light from outside the window, followed by a loud thunderbolt.

Marc shrieked, launching himself forward into Nathaniel's arms. He stayed for a moment, processing their position before jumping back, face bright red, "Sorry! Sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Nathaniel chuckled, patting his back, "No problem." He turned to look outside at the dark clouds. "I didn't realize it started raining." He frowned, "My mom wanted me home by dinner. I don't know if it'll still be warm by the time this rain lets up." The artist sighed, slumping in his seat, "And it was my favorite too..."

Marc stood up suddenly. Nathaniel didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong before he started shoving his items into his backpack.

"We'll get you home in time for dinner," Marc promised, a determined glint in his eye.

"...How are we supposed to leave during the storm?" Nathaniel asked, although still following the writer in packing his things.

"If we run fast enough, we can dodge the rain!" Marc beamed, a confident grin on his face.

Nathaniel stared at him, "I know you're like super op when it comes to soccer, but I don't think that's how it works-"

"Come on!"

Despite Nathaniel's protests, Marc dragged him out of the art room, hurrying down the stairs as fast as they could without slipping. He could already feel his clothes and hair sagging against his body, sticking to his skin as raindrops pelted them.

But even still, any complaints he had died in his throat as they ran across the courtyard, Marc turning back to look at him. He was soaking wet but his smile still shone bright as the sun.

Nathaniel couldn't help laughing along with him as they made their way up to the entrance. They stood in the door for a while, wringing out what little water they could before turning to where the metro was located, just a couple more feet away.

The two of them looked at each other, grinning wildly as they prepared to bolt through the rain once again.

"What are you guys doing?"

They both jumped, turning around to where Alix was standing, hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow.

"What?! How are you dry?!" Nathaniel sputtered.

"I walked along the walls." Alix drawled, pointing back inside. When they followed her gaze, they saw that large sections of the ground floor were indeed dry since they were covered by the second floor.

"...Oh."

[renhy6ck]

closer of you – renjun & donghyuck.

warnings: fingering (f!), voyeur & dom!donghyuck, hard dom!renjun, dirty talk, degradation, fighting for dominance?, masturb4tion (m x m!), pet names, big c0ck! hyuck, oral (m!), creampie and vaginal penetration.

synopsis: porn without some specific plot. just pure and clear smut.

—

you know how much renjun needs you when he tilts his body against yours while you are still lying on the bed. donghyuck's silhouette sitting on the next bed does not seem to bother him, as he makes no mention that he would stop.

the babylook that barely covered yourbody is on the floor, your pink chess skirt is wrapped around your waist and the panties are put aside. the silence kind of scares you and you don't know very well where to look, holding a groan when you feel your boyfriend's thin fingers playing with your input. you contracted a few times with the mention of his fingertips getting into you, in a few seconds, two fingers were burying into you.

"you don't have to get that nervous, kitten" donghyuck's soft voice echoed through your ears, his eyes immediately turned to a relaxed face. a few drops of sweat fell from his cheeks and his dark eyes showed how much he was focused on you. "pay attention to how your boyfriend wants to fuck you... if you are a good slutty to him, maybe i can play with you a little"

a smug smile appeared on his smelling lips, causing your heart to beat. renjun pragued, using his free hand to tighten your waist, sinking his fingers into your skin waveously.

"you can't be satisfied with just one cock, angel? do you really need to be numb with cum until you can't stand it anymore?" the tip of his tongue makes a noise when it collides with the sky of his own mouth. then his fingers went in and out quickly and with some violence.

you close your eyes, throwing your head back, throwing your hip forward, in a desperate search for the tasty sensation that his fingers brought you, amid the rapid palpitations of your heart, just with the idea of the other two eyes on you. you wanted to look beautiful to donghyuck as you never looked before.

renjun wasn't a bad boyfriend, he knew very well of your secret wish for his flirtive and sticky best friend. he was unable to ignore the jokes about your beautiful ass or how your eyes shone at the moment haechan appeared. even if hyuck irritates him, he would be too cruel if he didn't give you that chance. you were so good, why deprive yourself of tasting the one thing that seemed so tempting and so impossible to have?

 "you didn't tell me that your little toy was dumb, hyung." the acidity of hyuck's voice makes you choke with your own saliva and the daydreams disappear.

renjun stops when you were about to get there, the diver pounding in need as his fingers drifted away.

"do you want him, princess?"

you hesitate and settle.

"yes, master..." the subdued voice softens the hyuck's ego. "i want his dick first"

your sudden confidence made him blink a few times, incredulous. jealousy tightened on his chest, his eyes half-closing as he split between facing his large western eyes and his open, reddish lips.

quickly, his hand went towards your beautiful and reddish face, squeezing it tightly, causing your lips looking small. your open legs against his body was an impulse for renjun's free hand to come into contact with your sensitive clit, depositing an aggressive slap.

"i'm not good enough to be the first, huh?"

it's not difficult to repair the pulsing vein in renjun's tempora, the loud and irritated voice already denounced the displeasure. renjun wouldn't admit it, but his ego was slightly hurt.

with a look of disgust, renjun releases your face, gradually moving away from your body. your elbows leaned on the mattress, pushing your body forward slightly. the blonde's hands tidy his black shirt, walking towards his friend, while his eyes look at them curiously.

"don't let her cum until i say to"

a presumptuous smile appeared on donghyuck's face, his tongue running through his lower lip as his hands strolled through his thick, showy thighs amid black skinny pants.

"that's a little hard to guarantee, man. look how she is now. if i touch her, she can melt"

renjun's jaw is locked now. you decide to be quiet a little, using your own fingers to squeeze and play with the nipples while you watch them fight. the idea of them having you both seemed too good to be real, you thought.

"do you want to see me end the show?"

donghyuck stands up, or looking into his best friend's eyes. the smooth white shirt contrasting with your tanned skin made you sigh. how could he be so beautiful? releasing a low groan, you soon squeeze your clit between the indicator and the thumb.

"you don't have courage enough, injunnie. not while she's enjoying her own little pussy" haechan's peripheral vision did not let your movements be ignored.

 "don't make her cum." renjun touches the shoulder of the youngest boy before sitting in the place where hyuck was previously.

donghyuck approached you slowly, gently touching your wrist, taking it away from your own intimacy. you groaned, looking at him among your eyelashes with some difficulty. the neon red light preventing you from seeing it so clearly.

"are you a good girl, hm, angel?" he interrupts you even before you can answer, touching your hair and putting it behind your ear. "of course you are. you're a needy little girl, aren't you? you need a real man to eat this cunt in the right way am i right?"

renjun was already about to touch his own stick, lowering the zipper of his tight pants, pulling on the mattress, squeezing the erection through his underwear, but the youngest words dispersed him. you looked at him, feeling a certain apprehension in giving any answer to the boy in front of you, but not preventing his cold hands from going down and up through your thighs, squeezing the inner part, avoiding your nucleus in a frustrating way.

"i swear by god, haechan, that if you continue with this thing, i forbid you to touch her"

donghyuck turns his eyes, opens the button of his pants and quickly puts his erection out, brushing it against your thigh. you groaned with the amazing picture in front of you. you blinked a few times to try to see more clearly. haechan's cock was thick, bigger than you could think, making your mouth salivate.

"it won't fit...i'm sorry. but it can't fit on me" you groaned.

"ah...it is. you know it is"

one of haechan's hands wrapped itself around the base itself, guiding the dick to your entrance, entering little by little, enlarging its inner walls as each centimeter sank inside you. the free hand grabbed both of your wrists, placing them above your head, pushing his own hip forward.

"be quiet, babe and don't cum, i don't want your pretty boyfriend to kill me"

the delicious laugh of the tallest made you into a trance. his eyes couldn't at least remain open, fighting against the neon light to observe your beautiful face while the noise of his hip against your echoed through the room.

renjun's hands were agile on his cock, going down and up, playing with his own glans, squeezing and rubbing his thumb in circles sometimes. it didn't take long for him to approach, kneeling close to your small body.

donghyuck approached, touching your boyfriend's face, turning to himself. he kissed him, entering the older man's mouth with his tongue, reducing the stools to something slower. renjun was slightly confused, but gave in to the touches, weaving his tongue into each other's, bringing a nice feeling. your eyes blinked a few times, not believing in the warm sight in front of you.

you felt your entrance pulsate in the middle of haechan's stick, pressing it with some force, going against your order and releasing some moans with your lips between open. the hand before on the boy's face, now was already involving renjun's extension, puncturing it quickly.

"master please, please." you wriggle on the bed, pushing your own hip against the cock, shaking your body in a desperate way, letting the tricky groans escape from your mouth. when they stop, your boyfriend announced with some arrogance:

"it's my turn"

haechan leaned over your body, kissing your lips then for a few seconds. the soft and warm mouth touched your jaw, your neck, your shoulders, your clavicle, the space between your breasts, while the stocking became desperately slow. soon, he was already out of you.

your boyfriend was quick to get into you, squeezing the skin of your hip with his fingers, sinking them heavily there, probably leaving marks, stocking quite quickly.

"squeeze my fucking cock, cockslut" he grunted in an order, entering more and more, moaning with the image of your messy face and the strands of your hair fallen on your face.

you obeyed him immediately, pressing and pressing your entrance around the extension of renjun. receiving slight slaps on your cheek; donghyuck's cock was hitting your face, looking for your attention, making you turn your head to the side and open your lips, letting it stick into your cavity, storing your mouth willingly.

"fuck, she still accepts me so well." he sighed, clenching his fingers in your hair, pulling your face against him.

you blinked, controlling the tears as you felt his glans reach your throat at the same time as its apex approached. you needed confirmation so much, otherwise you would succumb, you were sure.

 "don't you like to have two cocks using you like a stupid little slut? if you keep pressing like that, i'll finish you off"

with a few more stabs, you felt the sweet and bitter taste of  sperm coming down your throat, leaving only the caresses of his fingers on your face and hair. meanwhile, renjun slowed down in your grip. now with your mouth free, the moans escaped easily, hoarse and low.

"let her cum, hyung. i don't think she can stand it any longer"

a cunning smile grows on renjun's thin lips, slipping his hands through your body in a lingering caress, whispering quietly.

"enjoy it, princess. you heard him."

wiithout waiting, you have broken down around him, who in a few stools empties his liquid into you, relaxing his own muscles and laying his body on yours, hiding his face in the curvature of your neck.

"that was good, wasn't it?" haechan asks in a pleasant voice, getting up and straightening his pants, buttoning itand sitting at the edge of the bed. "did you like it, my baby?"

"it was amazing." you blink, letting some tears fall on your cheeks.

"i only have one thing to say" renjun started.

"i did something wrong, love?"

"no, y/n. the problem is him"

i the middle of a laugh, the youngest's hands rest on his own waist.

"aren't you going to tell me that you are mad because i fucked her, right?"

"if you kiss me again, i will kill you."

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 21

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

NOTE: Again, the third person POV starts after this sign: ✪

Tag: @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Still covered in nothing but sheets, Bucky was sleeping in your arms by the time you woke up. Little snores were coming out from his mouth. You smiled at the fluttering sound and planted a small kiss on the top of his head. You laid there listless, legs still shaking from what happened last night, and mind still clouded by Bucky's past.

Peter's annoying coffee bean grinder started filling your ears. They echoed against the apartment walls. You internally groaned at the sound. You looked on your right to take a peek at the small gaps between the curtains and the window. It was still quite dark out, the sun almost waking up. The time on the clock read 6:00 in red blinking lights. You let out a sigh. Peter hated mornings, more than Garfield hates Mondays. The only logical explanation of him getting up early in the morning and making loud, annoying noises with that old grinder was that he didn't sleep through the night or he woke up too early with too many things in his mind. You wanted to choose the latter. If he didn't get to sleep last night, there was a tiny chance he could've heard you and Bucky — might've even walked right in the middle of a very heated, wild sex between his best friend and his stepbrother, seeing as you stupidly left the door unlocked (by this time, you were already out of bed, your naked body wrapped with a cheap bathrobe you've had with you since your college days).

You made a mental note to yourself to lock the door all the damn time, now that you and Bucky were being careful.

Last night might have not been the best thing you've ever done but it sure felt so good.

You stepped out of your room and approached the kitchen. Peter had his back on you and was just getting a filter paper from the top shelf.

"Good morning, Peter Parker." You said, earning a genuine shock from your best friend. Your voice came out groggier than you'd expected.

He turned around, a filter paper in his hand. "Jesus, y/n Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry," you replied, "but it's six in the goddamn morning and you've probably woken up the whole building with your grinder."

He went back on his filter paper, placing it inside the coffee machine. That was probably the most expensive thing he'd ever gotten himself. "I ran out of coffee grounds. I had to make them."

You stayed quiet for a while, leaning against the counter and watching Peter pour the grounds into the filter. You watched as he smoothed the grounds with his finger. After a while, he placed both his hands on the edge of the counter, looking at the coffee drip. The whole time, you prayed to God Bucky didn't stir or make any noise in the bedroom. Thankfully, he didn't. He looked like he would be sleeping for a while, anyway.

Biting your lip, you walked to where Peter was standing and stood beside him. You waited for him to say something — anything about any noises he must've heard from last night but there weren't any. If he did, you'd be dead. You and Bucky would be dead.

Moments have passed. The coffee machine whirred on the table. The coffee pot was almost full. The dull kitchen smell was replaced by the inviting coffee aroma. Then, you found my voice

"I'm not sorry for taking the job, Peter." You started, your voice weak, barely a whisper. "I need it. But I am sorry for not appreciating you and your efforts to help me with my career. You have to know that. It's just... you know I feel about the corporate life — "

"I know, y/n." He cut you off. His gaze was now off the coffee maker but at the tiled wall in front. "I'm sorry for reacting that way. I was just tired from the trip." He faced you. A somber look crossed his face. Even if he was, just as he put it, "tired from the trip", you knew he was still hurt. And the more you looked at his baby-like face, the more you wanted to tell him about you and Bucky. You stifled yourself from doing so in your head.

Baby steps, y/n. Baby steps.

"I am proud of you." He stated. "I always have been. I hope you know that."

"Of course I do, Parker." A smile started to settle on your lips.

"It's one of the reasons why I want you to come work in the company. You've got a business degree, and you're a good photographer. And I'm proud of that. But," he paused, "I don't want to upset us both — especially you — by forcing something on you that you clearly don't want. If you're happy, then I'm happy. That's what matters, y/n."

That was a good opening, right? Usually, that was it: the perfect time to tell him that you were dating Bucky. If I'm happy, then he's happy. End of discussion. But things that don't go as planned also usually don't end up as well as you'd hope. After that, all you could utter was:

"Thank you. I am happy."

"And I trust Sam and Bucky."

You nodded, shying away at the mention of your lover.

Trust. It truly was a big and powerful word. The more you looked at Peter, the more the word "trust" started to blur all around him.

You shook your head, dissipating the thoughts swarming in your mind. "I'm starting today, by the way." You said.

"That's great, y/n." He replied. "And who knows, maybe you'll get bigger clients after this. I know Sam has a lot of connections when it comes to independent business owners. Bucky too! He probably knows a lot of models. Maybe he can help you with it, y'know? I mean, he's already helped."

"Maybe. Let's see." By this time, Peter was already pouring the coffee in his favorite mug. The words "Bucky" and "model" weren't sitting right with you. Was it a hint of jealousy on my end?

"Oh, how's it going with Wanda, by the way?" You asked, stirring the question in a different direction. Albeit liking that Peter was warming up to the idea of Bucky helping you, you didn't want to further the topic anymore as it was making you all shake up.

"She's coming in for a meeting today as well, actually. I really hope it goes well. This is the biggest account we've landed."

"That's good." You replied, nodding. Hoping that she wouldn't get Sharon Carter'd during the meeting. But then again, she was Wanda Maximoff — already known for her unremarkable talent. No one would ever think twice to question what she was capable of.

And who am I compared to her, anyway? You thought.

"So... you're starting today!" Peter exclaimed, stirring his coffee after putting in some milk.

"Yes. I have this pitch presentation for Sam and the team. But there's nothing to worry about. The last meeting went well and Sam and I have The Falcons' best interest." Then you told him about how you butted heads with his assistant, Sharon Carter.

"Oh, she's a Schmidt!" He commented, laughing. "Everyone's got a Schmidt."

You laughed alongside him, reminding yourself to beat Schmidt's ass when you see him.

"Man..." he trailed off. "How Bucky could convince you... it's still a mystery to me. You're kind of a hard shell to crack."

You chuckled nervously, gazing down at the floor. You didn't answer. You didn't know what else to say.

You and Peter chatted for a little while, burying the little hatchet you had. You talked more about the trip he'd had with his colleagues, the shocking truth about Steve's past ("Who knew he could write?"). Here, you made a mental note to yourself to perhaps check some articles he had written in the past. You also hoped some of them were online. By the time you and Peter stopped talking, he had already finished his cup of coffee and the sun was almost all the way up in the New York skies.

Before you even got out of the kitchen, you turned around and asked him one thing: "Hey, you still in love with that girl or did the whole retreat thing help you forget her?"

His back was turned to you once again as he was washing his mug. But his actions stopped once you asked the question. His head tilted. "Very much so."

You frowned, crossing your arms. "Very much in love with her still or..."

He turned around, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm still in love with her. Nothing's changed."

"See." You snorted. "The retreat thing was complete crap. Didn't do you shit. My advice for you? Tell her how you feel."

His eyes averted to the tiled floor, continuously nodding his head. "Perhaps."

With that, you left Peter with his lingering thoughts and wished him good luck. You must admit, the curiosity of who this girl he had been in love with for years was eating you. He was the kind of best friend who practically tells you everything that goes on in his life: all the good ones and the shitty ones. But you counted it fair, knowing that you too were keeping a dirty little secret from him. The only difference was your secret involved someone dear to him; whereas, his involved, perhaps, some girl you haven't even met yet. Maybe he met her in the office. Who knows?

You came back to your room, finding Bucky still asleep in your bed. You locked the door behind. The little snores coming out of his mouth were now gone. You woke him up quietly by kissing his temples and his forehead. After a few moments, his eyes fluttered open and a small curve by the corner of his lips started to show. The sun shone on half of his face, his ocean blue eyes absorbing all the light.

"Good morning, handsome." You whispered, smiling at him.

He chuckled and closed his eyes once more, letting his head dip into the pillow, as if shying away from a compliment. "G'morning." He lazily replied. "Is Peter still out there?"

"Yes, he's getting ready for work. You can go out after he leaves."

He rolled towards you, one arm dangling on your waist. "I don't want to go."

"You have to, silly." You giggled.

He shook his head on your tummy, tickling you. You laughed at the way he behaved. Different from the one you had witnessed last night. You stayed in bed for a little while, just in each other's arms, the silence closing in. It was a comfortable silence. One you could get used to. After what had transpired last night, silence was all you needed. Sometimes, it speaks louder than words could. We listened to each other's heartbeats, the sound of Peter's footsteps a few feet away from us, your shallow breathing, and the ongoing traffic just a few stories below

Then, Bucky broke the silence. "I never noticed how loud the traffic could be."

"It's either you've been living in a jungle or in a penthouse that almost reaches the sky."

"I'd like to live in a jungle." He continued. You prepared for his little ramblings, smiling to the wall in front. "So peaceful and quiet. I'd be swinging on vines to vines to vines like Tarzan. I'd like that."

You wanted to tell him a jungle isn't peaceful and quiet, with wild animals lurking around. But perhaps, compared to the human world, it was peaceful. Humans are behaving more like animals these days — or worse than them, even worse than the wild ones. But you liked that he was comfortable enough to tell you all the little weird things that were going on inside his head, all the good and bad, all the big and small. Things he had never uttered to others.

Perhaps it was good that the child in him was still there. At least he still sees the beauty in the world.

His phone vibrated somewhere on the floor, making your thoughts dissipate. He quickly picked it up as soon as he saw the caller ID.

"I have to go, doll." He sighed after talking to whoever was on the other line, picking up his boxers and his pants. You tilted your head to the side as he bent down, subconsciously biting your lower lip. "Tony's in the penthouse."

"Stark?" You frowned. "What's he doing in there?"

He pulled his shirt over his head. By this time, Peter had just finished showering. The water in the bathroom had just stopped dripping. "I'm about to find out."

"Peter's still out there. How are you gonna go out?"

His eyes moved to the closed window in front of him. "The same way I got in last night."

I raised your eyebrows, standing up. "In broad daylight? When people could see you? You're crazy."

"Well baby, I'm crazy for you and I see nothing wrong with that." He smirked, making his way towards you. "What's one more crazy thing to do?" He sped towards the window and quietly opened it, letting a cold breeze inside the room. His foot was just outside the window when you grabbed him and placed your mouth on his.

"Thanks for telling me about your past last night." You said, pulling away. It needed to be said. Now, you felt that you knew him better, knew the deep parts of himself he had been keeping, rather than the parts you already know about him. "I really appreciate it."

A soft smile landed on his lips. His hand caressing your jaw. "Thanks for listening, doll."

Then, he climbed down the fire escape, vanishing like Aladdin on his magic carpet.

--

The inviting smiles of the marketing team invited you into the conference room (the same one as last week) as soon as they saw you walk in. With your head held high, red lips, stilettos, and a bunch of papers and a laptop in hand, you shook all their hands with your free one, introducing yourself. Your eyes landed on Sharon who just gave you a nod. You turned around and fixed all the things you needed for your pitch on the table and felt a bit sad about you and Sharon's little exchange.

You were the only women in the room. The least you guys could do was to back each other up but clearly, it wasn't the way she usually goes. Or maybe she just really hated your guts.

While waiting for Sam to arrive, you practiced the speech you've had prepared a few days ago in your head as you skimmed the slides you prepared — all the color schemes, the tones, the framing, everything were on there.

Sharon approached you hesitantly. You looked up and gave her a questioning look, your fingers suspended in mid-air against the touchpad of your laptop.

"Barnes not coming with you today?"

"No." You briefly replied.

You went back to your presentation but Sharon didn't budge. She just stood there, looking down on you. "Can I help you with something or are you just gonna stand there?"

"You're not so bad, Ms. y/l/n." She said, startling you.

"What?"

"I saw your online portfolio." She answered. "You're good. I mean, you're no Maximoff but yeah, I guess you have potential. You just need a bit of push and the right audience."

You looked back up, giving her a small smile. Albeit the backhanded slap, it was the nicest thing she had ever said to you since day one. "Thank you."

"I'm looking forward to what you might bring to The Falcons."

"And I as well."

Sam arrived a bit later, having had some problems with the shipment of the next batch. You asked if this was going to be a problem in the production for the shoot but assured you and everyone else that it wouldn't be. Not anymore.

Bucky sent you a short text message right before you started the pitch, attached with a photo of him in a black hoodie with an unamused expression crossing his face. The hood perfectly framed his face in a weird way.

The day got dragged in seconds. Even though your pitch presentation about the production and post-production of the photos ended in a New York minute, with no further questions asked (surprisingly), the interview with the countless models and athletes took longer than you thought. Some even flirted with you (and not so subtle, you might as well add) to get the job. That alone just said a little too much of their work ethic and professionalism — which none of them had.

"She's taken, buddy." Sam glared at the model right across from you. "Move along now."

We watched the Australian model get up with a huff, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

"I could've taken care of that, y'know." You sneered. "I don't need you looking out for me when Bucky's not around."

He scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. His eyes on the papers lined up on the table. Beside you, Sharon was scribbling something on a piece of paper, double checking all the resumes, and couldn't care less about your conversation.

"Bitch please. I ain't looking out for you, kid. I'm looking out for Bucky."

"Sure, you are." You smiled, your eyes following the next model entering Sam's office. "Admit it, you care about me."

"Ha! You wish." His body language did say exactly that but his smiling eyes said otherwise.

The series of interviews went well after that, less people flirted. If not with you, with Sam and Sharon as well. Despite that, you've met people from different walks of life; people with stories to show and tell through photographs, stories worth telling, people who have been through success and failure, who have been marginalized by people who think of themselves as superior beings, people who are still finding purpose in life. And this is what you adored in this project and what you loved about photography. It was more than making money, more than a business, more than a face. It's all about the stories behind. And you couldn't wait to capture these stories in your lenses once you've chosen the twenty models and athletes.

After the long interview, you bid goodbye to Sam and Sharon, thanking them for the time and the work you've had today. To your surprise, you saw Sharon curve up a small smile as she shook your hand. Maybe you'd get along after all. Who knew?

You hailed a yellow cab in front of Sam's building and went straight to the bar, texting Bucky that you were on your way. You smiled, sitting closer by the window, looking up at the sunset hues in the sky. Now, whenever you looked at the sunset, all you could think of was Bucky.

As you looked above, some striking letters caught your eye: Stark Industries. The biggest, most famous business franchise there ever was not just in New York but in America. Tony Stark had hotels, restaurants, clubs -- you bet there wasn't something he hadn't owned yet.

Upon getting at the bar, Bucky was already sitting on the high stool by the counter. You were getting ready to hug him from behind but seeing Peter get out from the toilet stopped you. Instead, you went for a small smile and a wave. You would've killed to hug him and kiss him after a long day.

Nat wasn't around for her shift tonight, so it was just Nick and the other guys going around for orders. You wondered if Steve too was around or not but it looked like he wasn't. Well, that explains things. It wasn't that hard to put two and two together.

The bar's atmosphere was different without Nat around. Everyone was nice.

"Hey, it's Miss Big-Shot!" Even Nick was nice. "What can I get for ya?"

You ordered a non-alcoholic drink while telling Peter and Bucky how things went through today, secretly wishing it was just you and Bucky. You would've been sitting close together, thighs grazing each other, fingers brushing against each other under the counter, like a couple morphing into one entity.

You secretly kept glancing at Bucky, wondering what was in his mind, wondering if he too wished the same thing you had wished for, wondering if he would kiss me every chance he'd get to. You weren't a big fan of the whole PDA thing but when it came to Bucky, you'd let him do anything to you anytime, anywhere.

After you told them how your day went, you decided to ask a stupid question: "Oh hey, Bucky, how'd it go with Tony?"

Silence filled the counter. Bucky's eyes filled with horror while Peter shot you a questioning look. Then, he looked at Bucky. "You saw Mr. Stark today?" Then, back at you. "Wait, ho-how did you know about that?"

It was a good thing you were quick to think off the top of your head. "Bucky and I ran to each other in Manhattan and I asked how he was doing and then he told me about it! Right, Bucky?"

"That's it!" He replied, smiling awkwardly. "We did and yes, I told her."

"Aw, man. Mr. Stark never answers my phone calls or messages." Peter pouted. "What did you guys talk about?"

Bucky shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. "Business stuff. He says he wants me to be more... present. You know how he is."

But Peter didn't seem to mind about Bucky's reply. "How come he doesn't call me?"

"Oh my god, Parker, are you jealous?" You laughed, nudging his shoulder.

"Well, he never calls me!"

"Aw, is daddy too busy for his little boy?" You joked, pinching his cheeks which he slapped away.

"Ew, don't call him that!" Peter exclaimed, playfully glaring at you. "And he's not my dad! He's his dad!" He pointed at Bucky with his thumb."

"I'm adopted."

"Which technically means he's your dad." He replied. "Did he say anything about me?"

"No, not really." Bucky chuckled at Peter's whining, putting a hand on his shoulder, as if reassuring him. "Don't worry, kid. We'll go pay him a little visit and you can curse him out if you want. I'll be happy to back you up."

"Oohh, I can never do that to Mr. Stark."

"Why not?" You asked. "He's not your father. I say go curse him out."

"He's Tony Stark!" He exclaimed. "You'd be crazy to do that."

"You are such a baby, Parker." You groaned.

"I know." Peter smirked. "That's why women find me adorable."

"Gross." You cringed at him, throwing a cashew nut to his face. "Never ever say that again."

After about an hour of catching up, you three went to the apartment, the awkward silence during the elevator ride killing you each passing second.

You and Bucky stood behind Peter as he struggled to open the door, a little too close for Peter's liking (if he could see us now). Bucky slowly hooked his pinky with yours. You looked at him with a small smile on your face, then down at your pinkies hooked together.

They looked like a little knot on a string.

Bucky looked straight ahead, a sly smile playing on his lips as his hand moved from your hand to your ass. You slightly jumped at the contact, a small blush covering your cheeks. He removed it immediately when Peter managed to open the door after mumbling a few profanities under his breath. You quietly whimpered at the absence of Bucky's touch.

You went straight to your room after that, leaving Bucky and Peter in the living room. While changing, you noticed a gift-wrapped box sitting on your bed. It was a sleek black medium-sized box, adorned with a thick black ribbon, and thin silver ribbons. You frowned at it as you unbuttoned your blouse. You brushed your hand against the ribbon, looking for a note but there was none.

Once you put on some house clothes, you sat on the bed and carefully opened the box. You gasped as you carried the lid. Inside was the Nikon D850 — exactly what you've been wanting — and three different lenses, each with a different purpose.

"Bucky, you son of a bitch." You mumbled, adoring the equipment laid out on the bed.

On the bottom of the box, was a little white note that read:

For the most talented person I know.

Yours,

B.

You glanced at the door as you heard Bucky's laugh echoing against the apartment walls and immediately got out of your room. Peter was already walking to his room to change, leaving you and Bucky in the living room.

"You're welcome, doll." He whispered.

You wasted no time to push him towards the kitchen, and trapped him on the counter, your lips already smashing his. "You don't know how much I've wanted to do that since I saw you at the bar." You breathed out.

"Oh trust me," a quick peck on the lips, "I know."

"Bucky, the gift — "

"Is not too much."

"I was going to say I appreciate it." You smirked. "I think I know you well enough now not to say those kinds of things. But — "

He groaned, throwing his head back. "No buts, baby, please. Unless it's your butt." Then he, the cheeky guy he was, moved his hands on your ass, squeezing them.

"But..." You placed his hands back on your waist, giving him a look. "You don't have to do this all the time, okay?"

"I'm not making any promises."

"James, I mean it."

"Y/n." He smirked. "I mean it too."

"You're never gonna stop, aren't you?" You sighed, gazing into his eyes.

"You know me well enough to answer that question yourself. Now, what do you say when you've received something from me?"

"That's not fair. When you give it to me," you pushed your crotch against his, earning a slight groan from his end, "I normally don't say thank you. How come I should say it now?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "You're really something else. You know that, right?"

You rolled your eyes. "The amount of times you've told me that, Bucky, I swear — "

Then, he shut you up by kissing you softly on the lips. "Where's my thank you?"

You giggled, pressing against him harder. "How about I say thank you in a different way? How's that sound?"

"Right here? Doll, y'know I'm not one for a quickie. If I want to fuck you — "

The sound of Peter's door opening made you jump off Bucky faster than the speed of light. Peter entered the kitchen as you pretended to grab something from the fridge.

"So... this was nice." Bucky said, peeling himself away from the counter. "But I have to go. It's getting kind of dark now plus Howard's waiting for me downstairs."

You watched as Bucky and Peter exchanged their goodbyes by the door, and watched your lover walk away from you without a short hug.

As soon as you went back to your room, your phone rang. You immediately picked it up seeing Bucky's name on the screen.

"If I want to fuck you — and trust me, I always want to — I'd be doing it all day, all night. My place tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you, my little devil."

And with that, you laid on your bed, together with Bucky's gifts, with the thought of Bucky pleasuring you in all ways possible running through your head.

✪

Steve Rogers strode in the mirrored hallways of the Stark industries with Jarvis right beside him, dreading for this spontaneous meet to end. Keeping his head low, he asked Jarvis:

"What does Stark want from me now, Jarvis?"

Jarvis gave him a side-glance, not uttering a single word.

"Oh come on, now." Steve looked at the blonde beside him. "Don't be shy. Usually, you have the right words to say."

But Jarvis didn't budge. He knew Tony well enough not to talk to Steve. Besides, it wasn't any of his business. He was just Tony's little errand boy -- alright, perhaps errand boy was a bit degrading. His... assistant. Someone who does the dirty work for the boss.

"The silent treatment? Really?"

Jarvis internally groaned. Steve didn't use to talk that much back in the good old days. Almost reaching Tony's office, Jarvis showed him the way but Steve stopped him.

"Yeah, yeah. I know where it is." Steve huffed.

"Very well, then."

"Oh, now you talk." Steve said, stopping right outside Tony's tall metallic doors. Jarvis offered him utter silence. "Always a pleasure, Vis."

Tony Stark sat on his cushioned throne, trailing a little yellow cab with his fingers, as if playing with toy cars. Once he heard the door close behind him, he turned around and met Steve's cold blue eyes.

"Mr. Rogers." Tony acknowledged, eyeing Steve from his head to his feet. "Please, sit down."

"I won't be long."

"I'm afraid that's not for you to tell." Tony's voice was firm. Authoritative. Something Steve never missed. "We have much to discuss."

Steve sighed, defeated. He had no other choice but to sit across from the jerk.

"If you're here to tell me to shut up about that thing you don't want Bucky to know, don't worry, I will."

"So..." Tony trailed off, pulling himself closer to his table. "You know that I know."

"It was more of a guess." He replied, frowning. "But knowing you, I just knew it to be true."

"Alright," Tony exhaled, minding Steve's cockiness, "let's cut to the chase here. Your little bar? Captain Brews? I want to buy it."

"No."

Tony was taken aback by Steve's swift answer but he didn't show it. People always said yes to Tony. Always. "I'm afraid that word isn't a part of my vocabulary."

"See, that's where we differ 'cause in mine, it is." Steve answered, keeping his voice strong and steady. "I don't want anything to do with you. I did everything you told me to. Leave me and my bar alone."

"How much do you want for it?"

"What?"

"Ten million? Fifteen?"

Steve scoffed, biting his lower lip. "I told you, I won't tell Bucky what I know. I've burned all the papers, all the articles, all the drafts. There's no evidence left. Buying the bar just to have your strings on me won't do you any good, Stark. I won't allow it. You've already had my word before, right? What's one more?"

[nanafics]

Icarus, part 1

Nana x Hachiko

notes: this ff will contain spoilers. in all honesty, i haven't finished the manga yet, but i have faint ideas of what’s happening in it from where the anime has ended ((++ english is not my first language, so please pardon me if the sentences or wordings are weird or chaotic))

Hachiko's pov

Exactly six years has passed since the last time that I saw this face. The last thing I remember about it was how beautiful it was under the moonlight. Now, I was finally seeing it again and it wasn’t shone by the moonlight anymore. This time, her features were lit by the pub spotlight, the perfect spot for her as the band's lead vocalist.

I can't believe my eyes. I wanted to run, like I always do. To face away from the reality that it might actually be her, that she was here, her body, herself. It's her. Finally.

In the brief moment that I contemplated leaving the pub and getting back to the hotel to my daughter, she caught my eyes. I was mesmerized by its glossiness, its darkness, how black it was that my feet felt like they were stuck in the ground. We used to joke around and called her a cat, more specifically a wild leopard following her shiny eyes and foxy looks. I suppose it really fits her, everything about her seems perfectly put together.

Hey Nana, is this the right choice? I could still run away, now. I could leave while you're still singing, forgetting that this ever happened. Returning to my daughter, my son and to the arm of a man I realized a while ago I never wanted to be with. Is this it? Will this be my last time seeing your face, without ever having a chance of giving you a proper goodbye?

I could feel she sensed my indecisiveness because from that moment on, she focused her eyes on me, the whole time that she was singing. That exact moment reminds me of the time when Nana conducted a special performance with Nobu in our kitchen, their first time performing this song. It gave me butterflies the same way it did the last times. This time though, there was no Nobu, no Shin and no Yasu. Just Nana and a foreign band. Still, in this very short period, I felt like everything was back to normal. That we were all still together. BLAST and Nana and me, all sitting on our little table.

I suppose the surrealness of this circumstances really strucked me that only after a few moments later, I realised Nana was already right infront of me. The music has stopped and the dim light has been switched back on in the pub.

"Hachi..." She called my name with that melancholic tones of hers. My heart started to feel heavy and I felt like I was loosing my balance. A mixed of emotions was spread across her face. I might have seen tears in her eyes, but I couldn't be too sure since my own eyes were already flooded with it.

"Hachi..." She called me again, this time she was slowly embracing me in a hug. Her hug felt warm, warmer than any embrace I've been in. That was the most relieved I had felt over the past few years.

"Nana, I..." I choked on my own tears that I couldn't bring myself to say it. The words stuck in my throat, not allowing the 1001 things I wanted to say to her.

"Hachiko, was- was this a mistake? I'm sorry if you wanted to leave and it looked like I didn't allow you to." There was visible unevenness in the tones of her voice, like she was about to burst into tears and break down right there and then, but only stopped because I did it first. She slowly released me from her embrace but I wasn't going to allow that. I pulled her tighter, not allowing any space between us.

"Nana, no. I want to be here, I want to see you. You didn't have to apologize." Nana was always like this, restricting herself from saying what she really wanted. Even then when Ren was still alive and they were together, she would always suppress her wants in fear he'd leave her for demanding too much or too often.

We stayed in that position for a few moments. No one was talking and it felt better that way. It felt like our souls were finally connecting again, no words were needed to mend them back together. I'm sure Nana felt it too. Had one of us realized this six years ago, we wouldn't have to go through the suffering and pain we have endured right up until this moment.

Of course, there were moments in the past six years that brought light in my heart, like the ones I had been having with my daughter, or the few days every month that I get to spend with my son while Takumi runs around Tokyo to inspect his production companies. I was grateful to be blessed with such beautiful children. There was nothing in the world that felt better than the moments when I am the mother of Ichinose Ren and Ichinose Satsuki.

Though at this very moment, all I could and would want to think of was Nana who was in front of me. This was the only chance we have of fixing what we had left behind all those years ago, and I knew she realized it too. She took my hands and guide me to the backstage. I felt at peace knowing she had taken the first move because if she hadn't, we would probably have stayed that way forever.

"Down for a drink at my place? I've got some strawberry glasses you could use. That, if you still want to use it," She chuckled a little upon looking at my stricken face. I thought Nana had forgotten about it.

"Don't be so surprised. I found it at some Asian supermarket the other day and thought they looked cute. Come, let's get out of here," She picked up her guitar and put her free arms around my shoulder, guiding me outside to the cold air.

The fresh air felt great on my face, but it felt better because Nana was next to me. It really felt like we were back there again.

[mingissmile1117]

Hello! I decided to post this ff on here as well! It would really mean a lot and help me out if you could also check it out on my wattpad:)!! Don't feel obligated to though.

Chapter 1, Late Wednesday Nights

1574 Words

Seonghwa didn't want to work at this damned bar for the rest of his life. Smelling vomit and having to drag heavy limp body's outside really does something to a person's sanity. He swore, if he had to mop up sticky alcohol residue on the floor from clumsy drunks spilling their drinks one more time he was doing to snap his own neck.

The night was coming closer, and so was Seonghwas shift. Since it was a Wednesday night, almost everyone that was here from the evening had left, by their own will or forced to from security. The tired man stared off into space, mindlessly wiping off the soapy shot glasses behind the counter.

He came to when the bell from the door chimed softly. Annoyed, he groaned quietly. Who comes to the bar this late on a Wednesday night?

When he looked up, his breath hitched, stuck in his throat. Standing at the entrance was a man of short stature. He adorned a blonde buzz cut. His chin was slim and complimented by a sharp jawline that could cut through diamonds. The man's eyes were beautiful; deep chocolate brown irises and long, black eyelashes. His lips were the perfect shade of pink and deliciously plump. Overall, he was quiet the pretty man.

"Hello!" Hongjoong waved his hand, trying to get Seonghwas attention.

Seonghwa blinked, swallowing dryly. "Sorry- sorry. Welcome! Have a seat." He said with a smile, throwing his towel over his shoulder and resting his hand on his hip. "What can I get for you?" He asked the man across the counter, eyes taking in all his sharp features.

Hongjoong sat down on the barstool and rested his hand on the counter, slowly tapping his fingers. "Give me a minute to think." He asked politely.

Seonghwa nodded. He looked down at Hongjoongs hand, taking note of his panted nails and multiple rings.

"Woah... that's hot..."

Seonghwa thought to himself, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. He cleared his throat, going to the counter behind him pretending to do something to distract himself.

"Sir?" Hongjoong softly raised his voice.

"You can just call me Seonghwa." The man said, looking back at the blonde with a playful smile.

"Well, Seonghwa, I'd like a margarita, if you don't mind."

"One margarita for?" Seonghwa turned around, looking at the blonde with a raised eyebrow.

"Hongjoong." The shorter man smirked.

"One margarita, coming up for Hongjoong!" Seonghwa said brightly, his hands getting to work as he started to whip up the drink.

"So hongjoong-" Seonghwa averted his gaze. "What brings to here at this time of night?" He asks.

The blonde sat back in the barstool, the three undone buttons on his flannel exposing a sliver of his chest.

"Got bored while taking a nightly stroll and decided I had some cash to burn." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't you have work in the morning? It's a Wednesday after all." Seonghwa looked up at the other.

"No not really..." Hongjoong bit his lip.

"Well you have to make an income somehow, what do you do?"

"I guess you could say I'm a freelance artist." The blonde titled his head, smirking as he bit his tongue between his teeth.

"Well Mr. Freelance artist," Seonghwa slid a cold glass across the counter, "You're drink is ready."

Hongjoong raised his eyebrow, chuckling softly as he set a 10 on the counter. "Thanks." He picked up the glass, his rings clinking against the surface.

The blonde stared into his drink, spinning it softly and watching the ice clash with eachother. "So Seonghwa, what do you do? Ya know like out of this bar?"

The red haired man blushed, looking down at the counter he was leaning on. "I like to make YouTube videos, they're really nothing much though. I live with my two roommates though who are pretty interesting. One of them really likes to cook, so I get to taste test his food all the time!" Seonghwa stopped himself before he starting rambling too much. "Ah sorry..." He scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"It's alright. I like hearing you talk." He said with a playful grin, "I also like people who can carry a conversation by themselves, I'm not that much of a talker." He took a sip of his alcohol, tipping his head back sensually.

~

The night carried on as Seonghwa talked to his hearts content while Hongjoong listened adoringly.

The were in their own little world, one at a barstool and the other behind the counter. Stars filled the dark sky as the moon shone brightly over the tall buildings. Crickets chirped softly in the grass between the cracks of the sidewalk.

They were brought back to reality when the apple watch on Seonghwas wrist started beeping frantically. "Oh- it's closing time already?" He said disappointed, tapping the screen on his watch to turn off the alarm.

"How about I give you a ride home after I clean up the place a bit?" Seonghwa immediately offered, not losing the chance to get this man more. "You said you walked here right? Plus it's pretty late out, I don't think any of the cab places will pick up." He said with a knowing smirk.

"I'm sold." Hongjoong sat back in the stool, crossing one leg over the other. "I'll wait for you then." He smiled.

Seonghwa grabbed the blondes empty glass and began to clean up the back of the counter.

~

Seonghwa opened the car door for Hongjoong, letting him in the passengers side. "Wow, what a gentleman." The shorter man joked, getting into the car.

Seonghwa got into the driver's side with a huff. He stretched his body, relaxing into the seat. As he stuck his keys into the ignition he asked, "So whats your address?"

"The apartment building on Dongyo Street. You know the one above the 7-Eleven?"

Seonghwa stopped suddenly and looked over at Hongjoong. "No way, really?" He asked, mouth agape with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" The blonde asked, a little confused.

"I live in that same building! How come I've never seen you before?"

"Oh!? Well I just moved in to the 5th floor a few weeks ago."

"The new floor they just got done building? Makes sense why I haven't seen you yet." He stated as he stepped on the gas, driving out of his parking spot.

~

Seonghwa had insisted on walking with Hongjoong to his apartment. He wanted to get this mans number so badly, but he was nervous and wasn't quite sure how to ask. "This is your room? E300?" They stopped walking and stood in front of the door. "Mhm, sure is." Hongjoong reached in his pocket, searching for his keys.

"So uh," Seonghwa started awkwardly, completely contrasting from his earlier subtle flirting. "Since we live in the same building and all, I think it would be pretty convenient if we had eachothers numbers."

"Oh well-" Hongjoong was cut off by the door opening, a 6 ft tall man with black hair behind the frame.

"Dude, where have you been?! Get in here! Mingi is literally destroyed our kitchen earlier trying to make dinner since you weren't here- come help clean up!" Yunho pulled Hongjoong inside and slammed the door shut.

"Wait but-" Seonghwa whined. He wasn't that disappointed that he didn't get Hongjoongs number since they lived in the same building, but it was going to be a lot harder now.

He walked all the way downstairs to the second floor, sulking. He opened the door to his apartment, room B6. It was quiet dark as he expected it to be Wooyoung and San were already asleep in their rooms. The read head slid of his shoes at the entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. He looked in the fridge quickly, trying to see if anything would appeal to his stomach, but nothing did. With a sigh he walked off to his room and sat down at his desk rather than laying im his bed.

He played some random games mindlessly, but he couldn't get that blonde off of his mind. He also thought about that tall man. What if Hongjoong was dating him? Or that Mingi that the dude mentioned? What if Seonghwa made up everything in his head and he didn't even have a chance?

Out of curiosity, Seonghwa typed something into the search bar

"How to know if your crush likes you"

That sounded absolutely childish, he knew that well, but he couldn't help it.

He scrolled and scrolled down the pages past a bunch of wiki how's and reddit pages. Until, he saw a link for a Craigslist added titled

"Spice up your love life and give your soul to this matchmaking devil"

"Oh?" That sounded quite interesting to the man and so, he clicked.

"Feeling lost in love? Not so sure how to win the heart of your crush? Make an 'deal' with this matchmaker and gain you're deepest desires. You'll surely find the treasure you're sought after. " Seonghwa read out loud, an amused smile on his face.

He scrolled down the page, seeing you could "book an appointment" with the "matchmaker".

"You know what? Fuck it."

After typing in some info he really shouldn't be giving out on the internet, he pressed enter.

Man, he was so desperate.

Tomorrow at 5 pm was his "appointment". What a perfect day to be off work.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Trust You to Cheapen the Moment

George Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 8 & 12

"Come on, [y/n or Character] just take off your shirt and tell us!"/"you're over me? When were you...under me?"

Warnings: Sexual innuendo. Swearing.

"Congratulations on a great game tonight boys!" Lee Jordan called as Fred and George entered through the portrait hole, still sporting their Quidditch uniforms which were currently soaked in sweat.

"Thanks mate" the Twins replied in unison.

The match had been against Ravenclaw and although Gryffindor naturally won, it hadn't been an easy feat. One which involved George coping a rather nasty bludger to the ribs. As such their win inevitably concluded with a stern lecture from their team Captain, Oliver Wood who remarked their performance as "sloppy". This being the reason as to why they were late to their own victory party.

"Well, hello boys" [Y/N] called as she made her way toward the three boys by the entrance, accompanied by a friend of her own. "Playing a tad messy these days, aren't we?" She goaded with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, alright [Y/N]! Red Hot you are. Sounding frightfully like our beloved Captain." Fred replied as everyone laughed.

[Y/N]s attention fixed to George as her face wore a notably more sincere expression. "How you feeling, Georgie?" "Like I took a bludger to the guts." He chuckled somewhat painfully. "I'll live, just need a good hot shower and to get out of this sweat drenched uniform." He tugged at the tight fabric which clung uncomfortably to his skin.

"I'll happily help you out of it, if you find yourself in need of a spare set of hands?" [Y/N] wriggled her eyebrows. Smiling at his friends innuendo George ran his tongue over his bottom lip before raising his own brows, as if contemplating the girls offer.

"Yeah, alright you two, wrap it up!" Fred intervened pushing the pair back by their shoulders as if stopping a fight. "George, as much as I'm with you on that shower and change idea, need I remind you we have a...previous engagement to attend to." He pointedly looked to his brother.

"What 'previous engagement'" Lee questioned.

"Super secret Weasley Twin Business." Fred winked.

"I can't believe you're leaving me out of your super secret twin business!" Lee protested, feigning dejection.

"Sorry, Lee" George offered a consoling smile. "Forget you. What about ME!" [Y/N] interrupted. "Come off it, there's no way you planned a prank without me..."

"But we did" they shrugged. "It's nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over" George teased with a pout. "What is it?" Lee asked, but the two remained quiet.

"Oh, come on, George. Just take off your shirt and tell us!" [Y/N] spat with a wicked grin. George stepped toward her slowly placing both of his large hands either side of her jaw and peering into her eyes. He leant down so his mouth was centimetres from her skin, whispering into her ear "Not happening, lovely." His hands slid down her neck, passing over her shoulders before finally retreating at they met her elbows. He smiled at the ever so faint blush that fanned her cheeks. "Okay, fine. So you won't tell us. But seriously...where'd we land on the shirt situation?" [Y/N] yanked on the uniform fabric playfully while biting her lip.

"Oh would you two just fuck already! This whole teasing thing makes my stomach turn." The other Weasley rolled his eyes before grabbing hold of his brothers wrist, "come on, lover boy. We've got mischief to attend to." He pulled George away from the group of friends, but not before he was able to send a suggestive wink to [Y/N] over his shoulder.

Fred did have a point when you thought about it. [Y/N] and George had been friends since first year after spending a day in detention together for being caught out past curfew, for separate reasons. [Y/N] and the Twins always had a playful relationship and it seemed impossible for them to go more than three minutes without making a joke or coming up with some new prank idea or bet between the three of them. The relationship between [Y/N] and George however, over the years, became substantially more provocative. Never becoming physical by any means, mainly they just threw a lot of innuendos toward one another. Just a bit of harmless, totally platonic, flirting really.

It'd been that way since their fourth year which makes it a few years now that Fred has found himself uncomfortably situated between the two obviously pining best friends, whom continuously deny any such feelings of course.

While the Twins had set off on their...other business, that left the remaining three to enjoy the Post-match festivities currently unfolding within the Gryffindor common room.

A little while into the celebrations, [Y/N] and her friend found themselves accompanied by some of the more eligible bachelors of Gryffindor Tower, about ankle deep in discarded Butterbeer and Fire Whiskey bottles.

"Come on, [Y/N] how's about a dance?" Dustin, a rather attractive boy she knew, spoke with an endearing smile gracing his face. "Flattered as I am by your proposal, I must decline." She slurred. "Why not?" The boy reached for her hand tracing small circles on the soft skin with his thumb while he stared into her eyes. "Because I don't fucking want to." The girl laughed retracting her hand from his. "Excuse us, won't you boys?" Her friend stood, pulling [Y/N] up with her. "Uh-oh...I'm in trouble" she faked concern before breaking into giggles as she was pulled from the common room.

Finding herself promptly being dragged down a flight of stairs into the adjoining corridor which, given the time, was obviously eerily abandoned.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Uuhh you mean aside from the fact my buzz was just absolutely murdered after being ripped away from a party I was thoroughly enjoying? Not much." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, why do you keep turning Dustin down? You know he fancies you! Why not give him a chance?" Her friends voice was sincere and a little giddy as she questioned. "Because I am not interested in Dust Bin." [Y/N] doubled over in laughter at her own joke. Latching on firmly to her friends shirt in an attempt to remain upright. Cackling styled laughter reverberated off the deserted corridor walls as [Y/N] was being shushed and told to compose herself. "Quiet [Y/N]!" her friend giggled at the state of her. "Is it, you're not interested in Dustin, because you're still hung up on George?" "Pffft, Pah-LEASE I am so over George." She slurred with a dramatic shove of the friends shoulder.

"You're over me?" The words called from behind her and like a cool breeze on the nape of her neck chills ran sharp through her spine. [Y/N]'s eyes widened while the friend infront of her smiled brightly, sending a taunting wave her way before disappearing back up the stairs to the common room. "When were you...under me?" The girl couldn't bring herself to turn around, she could practically hear that devious smirk playing on his voice. Her body was rigid as her blood ran cold. Talk about a sobering experience. Shutting her eyes tightly to muster the courage she tentatively began to turn her body, facing the boy with a painfully embarrassed grimace.

"You heard too much of that for me to get out of this on some elaborate lie, didn't you?"

"Yep." George stood smugly before her. Hands deep in his trouser pockets as he'd obviously had that shower and change he were so desperately craving. He looked good. White button up with the sleeves scrunched above his elbows haphazardly and a lazy Gryffindor tie around his neck. [Y/N] found herself having to swallow a lump in her throat at the sight. "Right from the rather insensitive comment made of my good mate...Dust Bin." The ginger chuckled taking a few steps forwards.

[Y/N] let out a long, defeated, sigh turning her head over her shoulder in thought. Her jaw clicked as she contemplated her next words carefully. If only she could think of anything to say. She was fumbling over various syllables, all of which were incoherent. George laughed at her nervousness and held a hand out for her to take, "Come here." He spoke softly. What else was there to lose? She accepted and felt as her body warmed from the feeling of his hand gripping hers tightly.

Neither said a word as George lead her quietly further away from the Gryffindor Tower. It wasn't until they approached the Astronomy Tower stair case [Y/N] made to speak, but was promptly shushed. 'You'll see' he told her.

The Weasley stopped at the top most stair, watching her as he slowly opened the door leading to the balcony. Eyes never leaving her face, smiling sweetly as he witnessed her expression shift slowly from one of bewilderment to awe.

Laid out in front of them was an abundance of pillows, set upon a thick blanket, surrounded by various sweet platters and floating candles like the ones in the Great Hall only much smaller. [Y/N]s hands sprang to her mouth in shock, she'd never seen such a romantic setting. Staring from the picnic to the stars that shone so brightly over head, with every Galaxy and Constellation clearly visible, she was lost for words. A startled gasp was the only noise to peirce her lips silence.

George watched fondly at the sparkle held within her eyes. Nothing but love in his as he stepped behind her, hands gently resting on her shoulders to move her forward. He nestled into the side of her neck while he walked her slowly so he could whisper in her ear, "I had actually planned on telling you first, tonight, about how I feel. But it seems you've unwilling stolen my chance." "Oh George..."

"I know, it's bloody good right?" He commented cockily. "Come on. Sit."

"So I take it this was the super secret twin business you had to attend to?" She said smiling as he made himself comfortable beside her gazing towards the sky.

"Yep. That and Fred wanted to set off some Dung Bombs in Snapes office. He's down there now." [Y/N] began to laugh and she suddenly captured every ounce of Georges attention. It's in moments like this he found her most beautiful. When she were genuinely happy. "You shouldn't have gone through all this trouble." She spoke earnestly. "You're worth it."

"That's so cheesey."

"You love cheese!"

"I do don't I?"

The two laughed, [Y/N]s head dropping as she did so before George raised her attention back to him with a finger placed delicately under her chin.

"[Y/N], I've liked you for so long now that I-I can't even remember when I realised. I just...did. You mean so much to me that it's scary" he was kneeling before her now. Hands grasping hers, "and I don't want to hear that you're over me because I don't think that I will ever be able to get over you." [Y/N] was staring fixedly into his eyes, heart thundering in her ears. Unable to believe this were happening. "I fall for you a little more everyday. I fall with every smile. Every laugh. Every sleazy innuendo you throw my way. I can't help falling and I just couldnt go another day without knowing if there were even a possibility that you may feel the same way. If you fall for me the same way I do for you. It's why I took that hit today, on the pitch, I was so distracted about tonight that I-"

"You saying that was my fault are you? That you got hurt." [Y/N] was smiling widely, eyes glistening with tears she knew were unlikely to fall but were there nonetheless.

"Ab-so-LUTE-ly it's your fault!" George continued her teasing with a beaming smile that shone nearly as bright as the stars above them.

"I do George. Feel the same. I'm not over you because...because there's just no getting over you."

George let out a relieved and amazed breath. He doubted he'd ever felt happier in his life than in this moment.

Both his hands came to rest either side of her face as he hastily leant his face towards hers before restraining himself. Eyes pouring into hers as hers were staring back. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered.

[Y/N] smiled softly, hands coming to lay gently on his elbows, "yes" she breathed before nodding quickly. A hand shot up behind his neck to bring their faces together, lips meeting for the first time. He pulled her into his lap swinging both arms around her waist as her free hand tugged on his tie.

[Y/N] pulled back to catch her breath while George peppered soft, frantic kisses down her jaw and neck.

"So tell me..." her head fell back in pleasure as she clung to him for support and felt as he hummed against her skin in response, "now that we've established I'm not over you. When can I get under you?" She smirked chuckling slightly. He rolled his head up to meet her gaze, staring unbelievably at her words as a reluctant smile crept across his lips. George groaned at the pun before pushing her down into the pillows, body hovering above hers as she left out a squeal at his action. Laughing in a way only George could ever make her.

"Trust you to cheapen the moment."

[slut-mp4]

April Fools - Park Jimin

summary: jimin writes a letter after receiving a call from his ex telling him that he loves him, on April Fool's Day.

words: 1.9k

this one shot is also posted on my wattpad account, however, the original is in Spanish. I don't speak English fluently, so this may have some mistakes; my intention with this is to try to learn a little and entertain you.

April Fool's Day.

The sunset glowed darkly, the sun descending in a zigzag cusp with the buildings blocking it from me. Naturally, everything always ended up leaving me, although this time it was metaphorical. So I looked at the clock, listening louder to its hands moving until it struck six in the evening than to the laughter of the people passing by on the sidewalk and their voices saying things I didn't understand the tone in an invisible bustle, but could imagine; people making jokes, telling anecdotes or just talking among friends.

I wonder at what point in my life I will have one of those, because they all eventually left too, and they lasted less than the sunset fading into the sky like a river of warm colors.

Do you remember that day? When we also faded into each other. When we were the ones who ran in the streets laughing without caring about people, when we were the ones who stopped on the sidewalks and just talked non-stop. Do you remember what we were? We were here, on the terrace of my room, watching the stars jealous of the beautiful way you could shine even brighter than them without trying. Do you remember how it felt? I couldn't forget.

Yet I'm just a fool who has ruined everything, because I can't be a normal person. I made you go. I made you walk away from me. And now I'm here, pretending you can hear me, but you don't. And even if you could, you shouldn't. I ruined what we had because I can't live up to expectations. Funny, even though I know it was my fault you left, I'm still here thinking about you like we had a chance.

You deserve better. Something so much better than me.

Who am I, really? Why would you have been with me in the first place?

The sound of a call on my phone suddenly rang out, too, though at that moment it too could sound even quieter than the noise of the street. It was strange. For a second something burst in my chest; I didn't usually get calls, or messages, though maybe it could have been my mother asking me if I've done the dishes yet.

—Hello, Jimin? —then I heard your voice.

I hadn't heard you for so long. About a month or two, which were a torture that you took it upon yourself to make more painful. Because that's what you were doing at the time, listening on the other end of the line the way you were collecting yourself around my agony and loneliness, and you were there asking how I slept yesterday, waving as if I deserved to hear from you again after letting you down before and letting out that shaky sigh that made my skin bristle.

It hurts. You used to make the pain go away, then you started to provoke it.

I had to hang up on you, because my heart couldn't take so much after hearing you speak before my chest hurt and my eyes burned. I can't lie to you, I miss you, like I have since day one, but I couldn't help it, you will always be the most precious thing I will have ever had even for a few moments of this life.

You called me again and again. Again and again. Over and over again. I didn't understand. You did it on purpose, didn't you? You knew I was going to come down?

—Don't play games with me like that —I cried once I answered the call. I tried not to let my voice break, but my mind was my worst enemy, reminding me of the good times we had, how good you made me feel. Damn. Yeah, it's so fucking weird being alone now, but I don't know if you know about it.

—Jimin... —Oh, your shaky whisper, it sounded even frighteningly beautiful. I want to believe I know how you feel: so do I, however, I also believed that one day you loved me, and it was you who ended it.

—It was so good —I lied. If I heard a little more of your voice calling my name I was going to cry yours until it was just ashy moans of my love for you. Why are you looking for me now? Why do you want to hurt me?

—You are a good person Jimin —you said. Sometimes we just have to understand that some people don't deserve us.

I wondered for a moment what you were referring to, but it was more than obvious, of course. Even if I wanted to deny it at times, it was impossible not to know that the only reason I could no longer breathe peace in these gray walls or in the cool air after a warm sunset was because I didn't deserve it. I could never deserve it.

—Please stop —My voice came out to you, like the cry of clouds shining among soft invisible stars within a sky the color of the sea where I could drown; I wonder if you would know the way my heart was pounding when your breath hit the microphone. Why are you calling? Why are you still here?

Your soft laughter shuddered down the avenue. It was so convenient; that's how you are. The streets lit up, though nothing shone like you, and for a second I could hear myself crying in the darkness of my balcony empty of you and happiness, even above the bustle of freedom outside that naturally gave me a headache.

—I'm not still here, Jimin.

And yet, it felt like you were lying. Your hands kept caressing my shoulders and your scentless breath would sneak between my ears, then you'd smile over me to love me as if I deserved it. We remember those nights here locked in bubbles empty of realities, and we felt ourselves vibrating on speakers as if we were bliss. We remembered the way we connected, and then forgot what it was really like.

I could, for a second, hear again your "I love you's" floating in me like cold butterflies, yet it doesn't feel the same way real love could. Of all the words we said so much to each other, the only ones that were real were always mine.

But it was okay; I get what I deserve, and real love with you couldn't be further from reality.

—I know —I closed my eyes, feeling the beauty of the night as if it could protect me, but in reality it did not. Of all the promises we made, not one has been kept. I also know.

—Jimin, I love you.

—D-do I? —I muttered.

I would never have questioned before whether you loved me or not, yet now that I've realized I'm not worthy of love, now that you've gone away from me, I couldn't believe you even if I wanted to.

Why, what have I done wrong? I don't know. The only thing I am sure of is that I do love you, but I could never again allow you to falsely return it.

I love you, so even if you could truly love someone like me in some lifetime, I would not let you..... You said it yourself, why should we stay with people we know we don't deserve? For better, or for worse.

—Yes. I love you.

—Then why did you leave? —I whisper. The hum of pain crushing my chest you could hear on the other end of the line, surely.

I wanted to tell you what I thought of your love,

And you kept talking. You did. I wanted to tell you, "Hey, stop, please, you have to stop talking because I'm falling in love with you all over again," but I couldn't, the lump in my throat grew stronger and the breeze made me feel cold. I had to set boundaries, because I was falling again.

That was what you wanted.

It was always what you wanted.

—It was you who ended it, so why are you calling me?

Still, you spoke as a whole. I heard your words, the worried way you listened in my ear like a melody of pain. I don't understand what you want. Acting innocent, you just make me sick, though I'm not entirely sure about that. Because, the more I listen to you over and over again as if you might feel something towards me, the more I feel deluded. Could you really love me, why would you be bothering me again.

—You can't stay in the past —you said. Your voice suddenly sounded so hoarse. The leaves on the trees rustled loudly as an icy breeze blew through, they clattered against each other. I think a night storm was coming. I suddenly wondered how similar you and a storm could be, they can both appear at any time and destroy whatever they want, can't they?

I don't know at what point we got to that point in the conversation when you said again:

—I love you, I love you. Forgive me, please.

I wanted to tell you to stop, to stop, but I couldn't. I didn't want your voice to come back. I didn't want your voice to disappear again because it makes me feel livid, floating in the world with loving agony. Honestly, I didn't care how much pain you were capable of causing me, because, I wasn't like that, but you're still inside my heart and I've become a fool.

I am a fool.

—You make me lose my mind, why do you want to see me now? —I asked, when I heard you say an address and remind me of the moments in it. This is strange, I should be alone again. You are better off like this, without me, why now?

—Because I've thought it all over, I'm so sorry, really, come back to me.

My heart shook inside me. It was you who ended it, but now you want to come back. It's okay, you have control over me in anything, you rise above me and it doesn't matter. It really doesn't. I'm used to that. Besides, deep down, I'm nothing without you.

—Why do you want this? I don't deserve you, I don't... you deserve better than me, you shouldn't come back to me.

—I know.

I had to hang up on you. Your voice was still ringing in my ear and I couldn't stop my world from spinning. I thought of the sweet smell of your skin, the silkiness of your hair, your eyes looking at me and your lips on mine again. I missed you so much, and even though I didn't want you to have to live with the burden of being next to me when I was barely capable of deserving you any less than you do, I had to dial your number again.

—Yes, okay, I love you, I love you with all my life. Please, yes, please, please, it doesn't matter, I'm going to give you even my little self-love to deserve you, I promise.

Then, I heard your soft laughter like a calm wave on the ocean. I wish I hadn't minded, but actually, I did, what was so funny?

—Oh, that was harder than I thought, you ask a lot of questions, but congratulations, I thought you were only going to last a few minutes and we've been here talking for an hour now.

In the background, I thought more people were passing by on the street because I heard more laughter altogether, but actually, it was coming from my phone.

—Happy April Fool's Day!

April Fool's Day.

I remember that day, but it was no longer as happy as when we made jokes together, but passionately sad when I sobbed.

I'm a fool, because I still sighed feeling sweet to hear you laugh. It doesn't matter, it really doesn't matter.

—I love you... happy day to you.

—Happy April Fool's Day —you seemed to want to correct me.

—No, happy day still.

[scarletbluebird13]

Hi! I just read some of your Masquerade Kiss fics and headcannons and I like them! Can I request a fic where the Boss proposes to MC? I don't mind a little of smut in it. Thank you.

Marry Me?

*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°*•°

Title: Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: Boss x MC 

Tags: Fluff, a bit of smut (mainly teasing)

Word count: 2353

A/N: Hiya!! I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to answer your request. I hope you can forgive me - and I really do hope the wait was worth it; if it wasn’t, I’m so incredibly sorry. To you and the other people who requested: I’m so sorry this took so long and if I made you feel ignored. Thank you so much for patiently waiting. I appreciate it. Thank you for your kind words tho, they really helped <3 Overall, I really enjoyed your request- it was a really cute and fun one to write <33 anyway, I really hope this is to your liking, and again; sorry for the long wait 

°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*°•*

A fresh winter breeze makes you tense up slightly - understandably so, you were wearing a backless navy blue dress standing on a patio, looking out at the snow covered garden before you - in the middle of winter.

The moon shone in all her excellence, creating an ethereal midst to your already unfamiliar (yet somehow familiar) world. Stars blink listlessly next to the moon, against the empty backdrop of a void of seemingly nothingness millions of miles overhead. 

Scents of roses, lilies and lavender cloud your senses, the sweet bitterness of the colliding smells nearly enough to burn your nose and bring tears to your eyes. Making it bearable, however, was knowing he’s with you.

Standing in a backless dress on a patio in the middle of winter is not enough to make you turn around and go inside the small building, where he makes some last-minute arrangements. He didn’t ask you to go stand on the patio - and he’d never dream about asking you. He’d be far too worried about you catching a cold or something. Knowing that, you sighed, looking at the breath you’d heaved take on its gaseous form, where the temperature is below zero. 

Just then, you feel the weight of a heavy coat being laid over your shoulders. Knowing perfectly well whose coat it is, you close your eyes and smile, waiting to be reprimanded for your harmless actions. 

“Did your boyfriend tell you to wait out here?”

“No. I came out here on my own.”

“Oh really? He must be a careless one, then.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He should know better than to let such a stunning, delicate woman like you walk around without something so simple as a coat. ...Afterall, who knows what would happen if another man put his arms around you?” He says as he wraps his arms around my waist, bringing me close to him - his chin resting on my shoulder and his breath so warm, so close - almost too close.

“I appreciate and acknowledge your concern, but contrary to what you may see, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.” I say with a smirk and twisting out of the Boss’s grasp, giving him a teasing wink while walking inside the small, elegant restaurant. The air about it a thousand times warmer than outside. 

He puts his hands in his pockets, a smirk laid placidly on his face as he makes his way over.

“How exciting. You are a truly remarkable woman. But even one of your stature mustn’t wait out in the cold like that. You must understand this, no?

“No.” 

“Even the deadliest of gods can come down with a cold.” He sighs, walking beside me as we follow the waiter to our table.

“What a shame.” Or I should say, private room. 

The young man closes the door behind us after briefly explaining our waiter will be with us in a moment, the somber chatter of the other room being wiped from our world behind closed shoji. The only other thing present in the otherwise vacant room being a neatly set table with a white table cloth and two chairs across from one another.  

The minute the young man closes the doors, however, Seiichi wraps his arms around me again, tighter than before.

“You shouldn’t have gone out there. What if you’d caught a cold?”

“I’d be fine - I’ve been sick before. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know. You don’t have to worry like that.”

He lets out a sigh and mumbles into my neck; “I worry about you because I care. How are you feeling? Still a little cold?”

I shake my head and comment “No, not anymore. Thank you.”

Not satisfied, he sharply turns me around and holds my head in his hands, looking me dead center in the eye.

“You don’t have to pretend around me, remember?”

“What do you-”

“Your cheeks are red and frigid.”

“U-Um, excuse me -” a young voice interrupts us.

I didn’t hear the doors sliding open, when did she get here?

“I-I’m so sorry - if you’d like, I’ll come back a little-”

“It’s alright. Come in.” Seiichi says, taking a step away from me, his eyes falling from mine. Nonetheless, he guides me to my chair.

“Okay, I’ll start off by taking your beverage requests.”

When the doors slide shut after the young waitress - who seems to be no older than a high school student - I sigh and say almost inaudibly;

“I’m sorry I made you worry, Seiichi.” After hearing him chuckle, I look up to meet his gaze, and sure enough, he’s looking at me - eyes full of boyish pride, holding the warmth of the sun and all the gentleness in the world.

“I’m glad you’re okay, is all. Anyway, that girl. She’s just about the age you were when we first met, right?” He says as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand. 

“Yes. I suppose so.” I smile, looking down a bit, lost in nostalgia. Had I not met the Boss when I did, my life would be vastly different. Dare I say, I wouldn’t be alive today. 

“You’re still the same, in some ways.” 

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, you’re still cute. And you don’t think before you act.”

“Hey.” 

He chuckles playfully, “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“Whatever. Anyway, you’re still a tease. I swear.” 

“You love it.” He smirks.

I’m getting tired of that attitude of his.

Wanting to get him back, I uncross my legs from under the table and slide my foot up along his leg, going as far up as I can, resting between his thighs.

In an instant, he jumps a little - hitting the table with his knee - taking a sharp breath in, his eyes going wide. 

I gently rub my foot back and forth along the length of his thighs, occasionally rubbing against the bulge in the middle.

His cheeks flush a tender, bright pink as he shifts in his seat.

Heh. Now who’s being the tease?

I can’t help the mischievous smile tugging at my lips as I look at the once cool man becoming a hot, blushing mess in a matter of seconds.

“Even in this situation, I can feel you getting hard.” I whisper, only then retracting my foot from its place between his thighs. At this, he growls, but doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” He says out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He growls back, looking impatiently at his watch.

“Damn. Where is she?” he irritatedly questions, looking at the door, placing a napkin on his lap.

“Heh. You think that’s gonna help?” I say, noting his eagerness to cover up. 

Then the door opens, and our waitress walks in, holding a cake.

“About damn time.” He spews, bouncing one leg and looking away from the girl.

“I’m so sorry about the wait, Sir.” The girl comments, a bit intimidated at the Boss’s state. 

Honey, don’t worry about him. He’s fine.

“Sorry, Mina - was it?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. Mina.”

“Yes. Well, Mina, I don’t think we’ve ordered the cake - we’ve only ordered drinks.”

“Oh, umm, w-well…” Mina trails off, glancing at the Boss. 

“Yes. I think you’ve forgotten the drinks, Mina.” Seiichi hisses.

All of a sudden, Mina collects herself and begins bowing what I guess must have been a thousand times, again and again saying “I’m so sorry, Sir! Please forgive me!” before dashing out of the room, almost dropping the cake on her way out.

“She’s cute.” I say, still looking at where she’d been standing only seconds before. 

Suddenly, I hear a chair moving, and before I know it, Seiichi has moved his char directly next to mine. 

“Wh-” my question is cut off before it gets the chance to leave my mouth. The Boss’s tongue cutting me off and opting to explore my mouth. It’s intense, and all the warmth he’d been showing me tonight vanished - replaced by an intense inferno, one I’m far too familiar with. This inferno is a stunning, blinding blaze of passion. 

I yelp into the kiss and arch my back when I feel his hand thrust its way between my thighs and feel his digits rub against the lacy lingerie covering my heated entrance. 

“S-Seiichi-”

“Hmm, wearing lingerie tonight? Were you planning ahead on tonight’s events…? Anticipating my touch…? Dirty girl.” He chuckles darkly. “I hope it’s the black one - you look especially sexy in that one…”

“Mmmn, we shouldn’t… what if Mina comes back…?”

“You should’ve thought about that before toying with me.” God, I swear I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, suddenly retracting his hand from my thighs. Without thinking, I grasp his hand and bring it back.

“Oooh. Rather risqué, no?” 

“Shut up.” I grunt, annoyed with myself for admitting I want this, but not enough to let him stop.

“Whatever you want” he chuckles out, breathing into my ear. He moves his hand from its former position to the inside of my thigh, tracing patterns before squeezing.

“You love it when I tease you.” He says with what I can only imagine is a sinister smile before taking his hand away. 

Before I can reach for it again, the door opens and I stop myself, my cheeks blazing. 

“Ahaha, sorry about before, here’s the champagne, as requested. I’ll be back in a bit.” Mina comments, placing the glasses and bottle on the table, not paying any particular mind to us. 

Probably still embarrassed about before. ...and I’m thinking about other things anyway.

It’s not like I myself am focused on the champagne or her either, tho. All I want is to feel Seiichi. 

But when I turn to face him again, I’m met with a soft gaze. It’s that face that could make me pregnant from the smile alone give me a heart attack - the warmth in that gaze, the happiness in that smile - I want it. I want to protect it all. 

“I wish I could take a picture of you now. Your cheeks are flushed, and you look like you want me. But you should take a moment to cool down for a bit - don’t want to get you overheated, afterall.” And he glances at the glass of champagne neatly placed in front of me. 

Not knowing what he’s getting at, I pick up the glass. But before I bring it to my lips to drink from, I see something sparkling at the bottom of the glass - a ring?

Surprised, I look back at Seiichi, and without missing a beat, I find that he’s already down on one knee. 

“Will you marry me?” He asks me, eyes full of sincerity and certainty - not a single cloud of doubt to be seen anywhere on his face. 

“Well. Say something. You were so full of chatter before - what happened? Don’t tell me you’re speechless now?” 

Overwhelmed with happiness I cry out, “Bastard!” as I leap out of my chair and throw my arms around him, joining him on the floor 

“Well, I did say ‘say something.’ Guess that’s good enough. But it’s not really a direct answer. Tell me, I want to hear you say it.” He whispers with a smile on his lips. 

He stands, my chin in his hands, his arm around my waist, holding me close. Promising to never let me wait out in the cold again -- even if it is of my own discretion. 

“Yes!! I want to marry you!” I yell out, tears falling from my cheeks as I jump up at Seiichi from excitement. 

To that he says nothing, but lets me know how he feels with a kiss, sweeter than any other. 

After some of the initial excitement, we settle down again, and Mina brings the cake back. When she shuts the door behind her, Seiichi gets close to my ear and whispers;

“Now I’m sure she won’t be back for a while yet, you’ve still got some paying to do for that little stunt you pulled earlier…” ...whilst lightly nibbling at my earlobe.

“Mmn, not my fault you’re so sensitive.” I whimper

He bites down on my neck and questions me; ���What was that?” 

“You heard what I said.” 

“Oh really…?” He smirks at me, glancing over at the red velvet cake on the table, just in front of us.

“Well then, you won’t mind if I eat this cake all by myself then, would you?” Moving away from me, he leans back in his chair with the piece of cake brought in, reading “Congratulations!” 

“Hey!” I call out as I glare at him.

“Well, then? I guess you do mind. In that case, you’ve got to make it up to me, Mrs. Setoyanagi.” He says with an evil glimmer in his eye, setting the cake down.

“Remember, we may be in a private room, but the people outside can still hear us - and if you sing too loudly, Mina might think you're calling her. So, shhhhh…” 

We spend another hour or so in the private room, trying to be as silent as possible, aware of the guests beyond the shoji doors. But it’s not enough. We leave the restaurant and continue at Seiichi’s place, and I couldn’t be more content. I couldn’t be happier to call this man my fiancé. A mentor, teacher, boss, lover and now fiancé, soon-to-be husband. 

Now I share a bed with him. I listen to his heartbeat, see his chest rise and fall with every breath, and I know. I know now. I know his name. It’s something so small, so trivial, so simple. But it’s everything in our world. He’s trusted me with it, and now he trusts his future with me. I know he needs water to function in the morning. I know he has a thing for soy sauce. I know. Who would’ve thought I’d share a bed, so much love, and a future with the man who saved me all those years ago. 

The man I’d admired for so long is mine, and the future ours. 

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: 4 O’Clock

Taglist: @jineunwootrash​

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

All This Time

"Honestly, Yesung," I smile as we wrap up at the studio, "I'm gonna miss this. I can't believe this is our first time singing together!" 

"It does seem long overdue, huh?" Yesung grins, sitting back in his chair. "We can always do this again, Lei. I'm happy to see you back in the studio after all this time!"

"You know," I sigh, "I think I am too." 

I hadn't planned to return to S.M. as an artist, but I never quite ruled out the possibility. I guess I find comfort in open endings. When I first went on leave, I started working toward degrees in a variety of foreign languages— the ones I learned as an idol— intending to return to the agency as a translator. 

Then, Yesung sent me a demo of the perfect duet and asked me to sing it with him. Being the perfect husband, Taemin encouraged me to do it. "One song doesn't commit you to a career," he said, so now I am here: reimagining my dream of being an artist. 

The days of nonstop touring and practicing from sunrise to sunset have passed; my priorities are different now. Here in the shade with Yesung, where the light is gentle, I am comfortable. I am not ready to take the next big step. 

"You're glowing, Lei; you were meant to share your voice." Yesung beams at me. 

I want to tell him that I am only reflecting the light he and so many others have shone on me, but I don't get the chance. In his next breath, he asks, "How's our little miracle doing, by the way? Do you think he's expecting tomorrow's surprise party?" 

As fond wrinkles form around Yesung's eyes, my heart swells and overfills with adoration. I shake my head. "No. Obviously, Mom can keep a secret. With time, Taemin has gotten better at holding his tongue. With Lucas, Donghae, and Heechul running around the house, though, it's amazing that the cat is still in the bag. I try not to question miracles." 

"That seems wise," Yesung hums. "Best to enjoy secrecy while it lasts; they still have a full—" he glances down at his watch— "almost a full 24-hours to spoil the surprise!" 

We laugh. Then, a joyful sort of pout— yes, I realize that is some kind of an oxymoron— pulls at my lips. I run a hand through my hair after releasing it from its ponytail. "Can you believe that Tue is turning five?" 

"No!" Yesung's hair falls into his eyes when he shakes his head. "Just like I can't believe that you actually came around calling your son Tue after all those times you scolded Kim and Lucas for using that name!"

"Having two Lucases around gets confusing." I justify my change of heart, shrugging. "Plus, my boy is unique enough to justify that kind of name!" 

Yesung repeats, "Unique," agreeing with a subtle nod. "He reminds me a lot of you, especially now that he's reaching that age you were when we first met." 

It's strange— thinking about how much time has passed— thinking about how some things never change— realizing that some images repeat and replay. 

"Really?" 

Tilting my head, I study my lock screen picture. Lucas took it just last night; he immortalized the moment that Tue sat between me and Taemin at the piano in the den, and I don't know if I have thanked him enough. I squint at the photo as if that will help me see similarities between myself and my son; it doesn't help. 

"I think Tue is a carbon copy of Taemin in appearance and personality," I admit through laughter. "These days, he loves to watch music videos. He can replicate any choreography— and I mean any choreography— after seeing it just once. I've never seen anything like it!" 

Should the agency find out, I sometimes think and spark worry in my gut, they will set their sights on him. 

There it is— the reason why I am so reluctant to return to the stage as an idol: fear of drawing attention to Tue. It was difficult enough when he was born and everybody felt entitled to see him when he was too little to decide whether he wanted to exist under strangers' stares. 

What worries me most, I think, is the fact that I don't know when he will be old enough to make that decision. Five is definitely too young— Taemin and I agree about that, so we take great precautions to protect his privacy. Nobody who knows Tue posts pictures of him on social media; whenever he leaves the house, he wears a mask like we do; as Mom considers early retirement (and therefore takes on fewer group clients), her job has become primarily threatening paparazzi who consider releasing rare photographs of him. 

I have never cared whether people think I'm overprotective. I know too well of the pressures that come with living in the public eye, and I will defend my son from them for as long as I can. Tue is a star, and I know it's just a matter of time until he tries to follow in the footsteps of everybody he loves. I only comfort myself with the thought that it's not happening yet; it's not happening today; it probably won't happen tomorrow. 

"I've seen something like that!" Yesung's boast drags me out of my train of thought. "I don't know if you can still do this— I don't understand child prodigies all that well— but when you were a kid, you could play any song on the piano right after hearing it for the first time. Donghae said teaching you to read sheet music was like pulling teeth because you played everything by ear." 

Knowing that reading sheet music is still not my strong suit, I redden at Yesung's recollection. "Tue can do that too!" I want to brag. "He's the most talented person I've ever known, and he is barely five years old. He's the most gifted person I know, and that's saying something, given how many gifted people I've loved." 

Yesung nudges my ribs. "Why else do you think Henry was so obsessed with you? You both spoke the same piano language!"

"You know," I say, "Henry asked about interviewing Tue for his program about child prodigies."

"Oh yeah?" Although he knows me well enough to predict the answer, Yesung asks, "What did you say?"

"I said that he's welcome to see Tue and play music with him any time," I answer Yesung just as carefully as I answered Henry. "You know that there's nobody I could trust more than you guys— Super Junior— to lead Tue into the entertainment industry, but—" 

I squirm, and my stomach knots. "You know how I am. You know that the thought of sharing Tue— no— not the thought of sharing his talent and his sparkling smile and his sweet voice and his kindness— that's not the problem. I know that the world needs more people like my son. I just—" 

After all this time, my voice still trembles when I think about how cruel strangers are to good people. "I just wonder how well the world treats people like him. I wonder how much the world deserves people like him." 

Yesung rises from his seat to embrace me. His chin rests on the top of my chair. "I don't think anybody understands that anxiety better than your Mom." 

And it happens again: my love for Mom grows. My beautiful Mom. My kind Mom. My Mom who stood in the wings, my Mom who stood comfortably in my shadow. I always thought she was naturally aware of when to hold on and when to let go, but maybe balance was challenging to her too. 

Hearing Yesung describe our shared fear makes me imagine that I have grown to resemble Mom. Tears fill my eyes. I am always sensitive; especially about Mom, and especially around Tue's birthday. 

Before the first tear can fall, he is running to me, crawling into my lap, and holding my face in his hands that are so small, so soft— uncalloused and young. "What's wrong, Mommy?" 

Because the tears evaporate so quickly, I almost believe that they never existed. For a moment, when I cup Tue's rosy cheeks and give him my truest smile, I believe that I have never cried in my entire life. "I was just thinking about how much I missed my beautiful boy! It's all better now that you're here!"

Tue giggles when I push his dark curly hair out of his face and kiss his forehead. He's especially cute these days because he likes his hair long; he likes for the ends to tickle his dimpled chin. 

"I missed you too! I asked Daddy to bring me to see you and Uncle Lucas and—" his eyes— the feature that most closely resembles Taemin's because they contain all of the universe's stars— widen in time with the growth of his smile. "Great Uncle Yesung!" 

Tue transforms into a reincarnation of my childhood self when he abandons all thought in admiration of Yesung. He leaps out of my lap and runs into Yesung's laughing embrace. 

It's beautiful— thinking about how much time has passed— thinking about how some things never change— realizing that some images repeat and replay.

I consider that on my walk to the doorway, where Taemin stands, watching the scene with a smile. His fingers trace absentmindedly at the ribbon on his wrist that hasn't faded with the passage of time. The color hasn't faded since he restored it on that night by the lake. 

"I'm sorry if we interrupted your work," Taemin says softly when he catches me staring. "I told Tue not to just run into the studio, but you know how he gets when he's excited: just a teeny tiny bit disobedient. Or a teeny tiny bit forgetful." 

After teasing, "I wonder who he gets that from," and earning a chuckle in response, I assure Taemin, "You didn't interrupt anything. Yesung and I are done with the song. We just got to talking." 

Maybe Taemin noticed the tears before Tue carried them away, or maybe he hears that longtime blend of anxiety and craving for peace that almost always reveals itself in my voice through our conversations. His brow furrows as he wraps an arm around my waist. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Yeah," I answer immediately because I always want to talk about everything with Taemin. I told him once that I would grow to trust him with everything, and I have; for better or for worse, I hold nothing back. Watching Tue throw his head back laughing as Yesung tickles his ribs just below his armpits, right where he knows he's most ticklish, I condition, "Later though. Smiles and laughter for now, please." 

Taemin doesn't press the issue. In the beginning, he was always in such a rush, determined to force intimate conversation, no matter my discomfort. Now, he must realize that there is nothing I will keep from him forever. Now, he must understand that everything will come to light when we lie together under the moon. He no longer races to the rising of the moon or the rising of the sun; he lives in every moment. I admire him for that. 

Taemin smiles and winks at me before fixing his sight on Tue. "Hey little dude," Taemin says during the brief break in Tue's laughter, "Mommy is done for the day, and she wants to hang out with us! What do you wanna do?" 

Tue runs to us from Yesung's side. He reaches for Taemin, knowing well that his father will waste no time in lifting him onto his shoulders. 

"Alright." Taemin squats so Tue can climb on easily and so he doesn't hit his head on the doorframe. It's funny to watch Taemin, who was once spoiled rotten, who is still a bit rotten at the core, literally bending to the will of a small child. "What's the plan, kiddo?" 

Tue wastes no time pretending to think about his dream activity. Although he sees his namesake almost every day, he declares, "I wanna see Uncle Lucas!" 

Trusting that I still memorize my best friend's schedules, Taemin glances at me. Luckily enough, I still know where Lucas is at all times. Some people jokingly call it twin-telepathy, but it's only through my nagging reminders that Lucas ever gets where he needs to be. 

"He's downstairs teaching a dance class with Mark." I look down at my phone again; I couldn't hide my smile at the picture even if I tried. "It should be wrapping up soon, so—" 

Taemin cheers, "Off we go!" and runs toward the elevator. Tue squeals all the way down the hall, and I wish more than anything that I had been ready to record this moment. 

Before following my boys, I linger in the studio to tell Yesung, "Bye! Thank you for everything!" 

"See you tomorrow!" Yesung waves both hands. "You're welcome for everything! Never forget that I'm proud of you!" 

I smile because it is impossible to forget what Yesung has told me since we met.

. . . 

Although Taemin, Tue, and I stand quietly at the back of the room, Lucas notices us immediately. 

"Hey!" His booming clap disrupts the class, and all eyes fall on us. "There's my mini-me!"

It doesn't matter that Tue is identical to Taemin (apart from the wavy hair he inherited from me); Lucas has called him "mini-me" since the day he was born. That's just a consequence of naming my baby after my best friend. It's a consequence I can live with. 

It doesn't matter that Tue sees Lucas almost every day; they always greet each other with wide smiles and open arms as if they have been separated for lifetimes. That's just a result of the bond they share. 

Sometimes, I think that Tue was born not just to fill my every void and fade every scar. He was born to be the best friend Lucas always deserved. He was born to teach Taemin that he is much more than an idol. He makes us better just by existing. I have never loved anyone so much— with my entire heart, my entire soul, with every part of me that has ever existed and will ever exist. 

I run a hand through Tue's hair before Taemin passes him to Lucas. This transition of our most beloved person into the arms of another dear friend occurs without the arguments that gave me headaches at the start. We have accepted it by now: Lucas is Tue's favorite person on the planet. 

I don't care much to challenge that title since it means so much to Lucas and since I know from experience that the role of the mother is special on its own. I don't know much from experience about the role of the father except that its absence painful in more ways than words can describe; I don't know much except its absence leaves a void that most will try to fill with anything; I don't know much except Taemin is doing a good job, and I tell him so every day. 

Now, I tell him by reaching for his hand and lacing our fingers together. This— holding his hand— has always been my favorite act of affection. It's crazy to think that, once upon a time, I would have hesitated— I would have refused— I would have denied the desire to reach for him outside of our hotel room and our home. 

Sometimes, like now, Taemin looks stunned when I touch him. He flinches as if my touch is frozen or scalding or electric, but then he smiles and melts into me a little more. Every time I think we're done melting into each other, when I think that we already blended to create the perfect human being, we take another step together. 

"Hey!" Tue leans over Lucas's shoulder to look him in the eyes. "It's big-me!"

"Sh," I instruct quietly, bringing a finger to my puckered lips. "They're practicing, baby. We're guests, so we have to be quiet." 

Generally, Tue is a well-mannered boy. He just forgets proper etiquette when excited, and nobody excites him quite like Lucas. Turning slightly pink in the face, Tue nods and brings a finger to his puckered lips too. 

Moments of correction are always short-lived because Tue takes instruction well. I wink at him, and he winks back. The thing is— Tue has inherited Mom's lack of facial coordination, so he blinks both eyes. 

The sight makes Taemin laugh. When I was a kid, I would have wanted to cry if someone (especially someone as beautiful as Taemin) laughed at me. Tue's lips don't tremble in preparation for tears, though; his lips curl into a gap-toothed smile. Oh, there's another thing my baby gets from me: a gappy smile! It looks much cuter on him; I almost hope he never corrects it with braces.  

Because Taemin laughed, Tue laughs. He always copies his father. 

Raising my eyebrows, I give Lucas a look that clearly means, "Aren't you supposed to help Mark with this class?" 

Lucas understands. Maybe his understanding is the result of (fake) twin-telepathy or— more likely— it is the result of having known each other for eternities. Securing his hold around Tue, Lucas softly sings, "Priorities change, Lei." 

Because I completely restructured my life for Tue— and that's much more significant than ditching the last five minutes of a dance practice— I can't argue with Lucas. I can only nod. 

At the front of the room, Mark announces, "Alright guys, we're done for the day! Great work!" 

I hope that he hasn't ended practice early because we have caused an interruption, but it's hard to stay worried when Mark's trainees break into excited chatter. The atmosphere in this room is unlike anything I experienced as a trainee. People like Mark, people like Lucas— they have changed this place. They have brought light into the rooms, and I— I think I want to help them. 

Then, I look at Tue, and I know that I don't want him to spend his days sitting alone by the vending machine. I don't want him to spend his days sitting in the corner while I teach trainees. In no way do I resent my childhood; I just want to protect Tue from the loneliness that darkened too many days. 

Life is about finding balance, I think. Balance between Lei the idol and Lei the human. Balance between Lei the fearful and Lei the brave. Balance between Lei the skeptic and Lei the romantic. Balance between Lei the individual and Lei the wife. Balance between Lei the idol and Lei the mother. Balance between Lei of the past and Lei of now. Some of these, I have mastered. Some of these were easier to achieve than others. Some of these are a daily struggle. Some of these remain a mystery. 

I'm trying, though; that's enough for me now. I am proud of who I am now. I am proud of who I will be tomorrow. 

I wave to Mark, thinking that he has always had the best influence on others. Smiling, Mark waves back, calling "Happy Early Birthday, Lucas Tue!" (and receiving a chipper, "Thank you, Mr. Mark Lee!" in response) before I follow my family into the hall, led by Taemin's hand, with the sea of trainees. 

We sit at the table by the vending machine. It's much smaller now than it is in my memories. Maybe that's because I've grown so much; maybe that's because my family fills it with energy so bright that I don't notice the empty seats. 

Sitting in Lucas's lap, Tue asks, "Did you know tomorrow is my birthday?" 

Lucas gasps, "Tomorrow is your birthday?" 

Taemin laughs at how Tue's face contorts in utter bewilderment. His lips part, his brow furrows, and his skin is painted a flustered pink as he whines, "I don't know! Is it?" 

Because everyone has been so quiet in discussing birthday preparations around Tue, he must not realize the date. "Tomorrow is May 29," I tell him, "so you're gonna turn five years old!" I wiggle five fingers toward his face; he laughs when I tap his nose with one of my fingertips, throwing his head back against Lucas's chest. 

"What?!" Lucas cries; Tue laughs harder at the overreaction before Lucas even prods at his ticklish ribs. "Five?! That's crazy, man! That's older than me!" 

Tue sputters, "No— no it's not! You're way— way— way older than five!" 

"I am not!" Lucas argues, dropping his jaw to feign offense. "You know who is way older than five, though?"

As if sharing the same brain cell, Lucas and Tue settle their sights on Taemin, who, tightening his grip on my hand, drops his jaw, taking genuine offense. “I am not! I’m the biggest baby at this table!”

When Taemin crosses his arms over his chest and pouts his pretty lips, nobody thinks to argue. Lucas and Tue snort, failing to contain their laughter at Taemin’s expense. I so badly want to laugh with them, but I want more to kiss Taemin, so I peck at his lips. 

At the kiss, Lucas and Tue do not squeal in disgust like most little boys would; they squeal in utter delight. 

. . . 

It’s hard to find an alone moment with Mom in our full house, but I find one after Taemin and I tuck Tue into bed. Mom is setting up Finding Nemo decorations around the pool. We chose that theme for Tue's party since it's his favorite movie. 

Even wearing her pajamas with her hair tied up in a messy bun, Mom looks beautiful among the moon and stars. "What's going on, Lei?" She drapes a cloth over a fold-out table. "You're wearing your pensive face." 

I try to laugh at myself by saying, "I'm always wearing my pensive face." 

Because I have yet to tell Taemin about my conversation with Yesung, my worries are a tangled knot at the forefront of my mind. It's a messy business, untangling the knot, and it's always easier with Taemin's help. 

Tracing my finger along Nemo's little lucky fin on the table cloth, I prod at the knot on my own. "I'm just wondering how you knew when to hold me close and when to let me stand in the spotlight." 

Mom stills to meet my eyes. "I know I wasn't perfect," she prefaces. When I try to disagree, she interrupts. "I'm human, Lei. I did the best I could, but I know I could have been better. Anyone can see through hindsight, in any situation, that they could have been better. They should have been better." 

Mom has this way of speaking that nobody can replicate. She acknowledges faults and shortcomings through a lens that is never degrading, never belittling. She looks at the past in such a light that does not inspire regret but instead inspires a better tomorrow. 

I admire Mom for that. I want to be like her. After all this time, I have not grown out of aspiring to be like Mom. 

"When I think about how you used to sit alone at that table by the vending machine before Lucas walked into your world; when I think about how you used to cling to the wall in the corner of every room; when I think about how I used to hear you crying in your room at night when you thought I was asleep— when you thought your radio was loud enough to drown out your tears with SHINee's voices—"

Mom's voice wavers, and her gaze crashes onto the table. Now that I see her so affected by past pains even in the happiest stage of life to date, I understand: it was never easy for Mom. She just carried the burden where I couldn't see it. 

"I always wondered if I was doing the right thing. I wondered if the spotlight found you because you walked into it or because I nudged you toward it. When you became a trainee and Donghae told me that Sehun said people were being cruel to you—" Mom bristles— "you don't know how much I wanted to pull you out of the agency. You don't know how badly I wanted to take you and hide you someplace where nobody could hurt you. But—"

Mom laughs— genuinely laughs— when I wrap my arms around her, thinking, knowing that a place without pain does not exist (at least not on earth). It's enough that she wanted to take me there, I think. It's enough that she wanted that place to exist for me. 

She asks, "Do you know that part in Finding Nemo where Dory tells Marlin, 'Well, you can't never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him'?"

I nod. Even though Tue often falls asleep in my lap by that part of the movie, I know it well.

"Quickly— maybe instantly— I realized that you are too special not to share with the world." Mom cups my face with both hands. She kind of pinches my cheeks because they are still full; they still make me look very much like a child. "This world would be a sadder, duller place without your light shining in it. I decided that if anyone out there tries to dampen your light— well—" 

Mom smiles, so I smile too. 

"I would work a million times harder to keep it burning."

. . .

When I tell Taemin about my conversation with Yesung in the studio and my conversation with Mom under the moon, he says, "That's all very beautiful, baby. It almost makes me want to cry. But I still think Tue is way too young to be an idol." 

I have almost drifted to sleep with my head on Taemin's chest because the steady beat of his heart has always been one of my greatest comforters. I lift my head to narrow my eyes at him. "How did you gather from any of that that I want our son to be an idol?" 

Taemin squints, trying to make out my features in the dark. "I don't know! It just seemed like you were coming to terms with letting him wander into the spotlight, and I thought maybe it was my turn to be the voice of reason!" 

Even without the slightest aid offered by the pale moonlight, I would see the smirk curling his lips. "The last time I was the voice of reason was during our first New Year when you dropped your dress—"

"Let it go, Taemin!" I chastise, wondering how and why I let his sentence get that far before rolling my eyes. "That happened how many years ago?" 

"I don't know. Time is all relative anyway." Taemin probably feels like some kind of genius or the mysterious picture of a soulmate he was at the beginning. "It happened how ever many years ago, and it's still one of my favorite memories! It never fails to make me smile." 

I shake my head and lay on my back beside him. "We're way off track. Anyway, I completely agree: Tue is too young to be an idol. The agency wouldn't even let him audition until he turns ten. Even then, I'm not going to suggest that he audition. I'm not going to actively nudge him anywhere near that path." 

Moments pass in silence. Taemin rolls onto this side to trace patterns on my stomach. In addition to calming me, this gentle affection helps him organize his thoughts.

"I think we should cross that bridge when we come to it," he says, as usual. "Obviously, I want to support him in anything he wants to do. I won't really know how to help him if he wants to be a doctor or a lawyer, but— well— think of how much we can guide him if he wants to follow in our footsteps." 

Taemin makes a good point. Having two idol parents might make Tue a target for bullies— I know that having a manager for a mother made me one— but cruel people will justify their actions with any excuse. What makes Tue stand out could double as a strength; I know having my particular mother made me stronger. Similarly, Tue could turn to me and Taemin and Mom and Lucas and his entire network of well-wishing idols for advice, and we would all be equipped by our experiences to help him in some way. 

"I'm so glad I have you." I roll onto my side so that my face is level with Taemin's and I can clearly see the night sky reflected in his eyes. "You embody that perfect balance between listening and advising. You always have. I love you so much for that. I always have." 

He smiles, and my heart flutters. "I'm glad I have you too. Thank you for trusting me and listening to my advice. I love you so much for that. I always will." 

Taemin creates the perfect atmosphere for honesty. With a glance, he encourages me to carry my darkest thoughts into the light. It feels like he is carrying them with me; they are less heavy this way. That's why I admit, suddenly on the verge of tears, "I'm afraid that I haven't made my love for Tue clear enough."

I have rarely cried since taking a break from being Lei the idol. My outburst must send Taemin back in time to the very start when I first cried to him under the moon's watch— to the night when the moon became ours. Back then, he was so careful. He resisted the destined desire to touch me, to embrace me, because he didn't want to frighten me. Now, he moves instantly, instinctively, to hold me. 

His lips meet mine for a second. After just a second, he tries to part, but I need him. I need him, and that hasn't scared me in so many moons. I need him, and I bring him back down to me and hold him here until we have kissed most of my worries away. 

We always keep a few worries because Taemin says they keep us safe. He thinks my talent for spotting danger is, in moderation, one of our greatest strengths. I'm good at seeing a storm cloud from a million miles away; Taemin is good at making a hurricane feel like an overdue summer drizzle. That's why we are the greatest team to ever exist. 

"Tue knows you love him," Taemin assures me in a whisper against my lips. "Anyone who knows you— anyone who knows us knows that we weren't really breathing until Tue took his first breath."

That's not to say that life wasn't worth living before Tue existed. Just like my life was as happy as it could have been before Lucas, and it was happier once he laughed and painted the world anew; just like my life was as happy as it could have been before Taemin, and it was happier once he handed me the moon; my life was as happy as it could have been before Tue, and it was happier once he breathed. 

Tue's breath gave me every beautiful wonder I never knew existed— the heavenly traces on earth that nobody can see with the naked eye until they have seen and felt and loved their child. 

"Does the world know?" My mouth hurts from frowning. "These past five years— have we done the right thing by keeping Tue off of social media? The agency issued the briefest statement about him, like, a week after he was born, and I don't even know if they mentioned his name. Mom deletes all leaked traces of him from the internet. Any time interviewers are bold enough to ask you about him, the agency pressures the network to cut the clip." 

They do all of these things at our request. 

Taemin wipes the tears spilling from my eyes as I wonder, "When Tue gets older, what will he think about the fact that his parents said nothing about him where the world could hear?" 

"Hopefully he'll understand that his parents loved him enough to protect him until he was old enough to protect himself," Taemin answers in a tone that does not belittle my fears in his effort to quell them. "It's not like you've been active on social media at all these past five years, Lei. If Tue ever asks, and I doubt he will, we can explain that you spent all of your time with him while I—"

Taemin's voice falters. 

One of his biggest insecurities— maybe you could call it a regret— is that while I walked away from my career the moment I felt Tue's life, he hadn't deviated much from the course he had been on most of his life. I never pressured Taemin to make a career shift in any direction; at every opportunity, I expressed my belief that there is no right or wrong move when finding the balance between family life and work. Needs vary, and I believe that people can adapt to almost any situation. 

Taemin's pace has changed somewhat over time. Early morning practices with Jongin became scarce after Tue was born; now, they are almost obsolete. He says that he likes to be home for breakfast and early morning cartoons. 

He isn't as excited about promoting abroad when Tue and I can't tag along. As you can probably imagine, some trips cannot function as family vacations. He swears that video calls before bed are not enough to fill the void in his day when we aren't there. 

He doesn't look forward to awards ceremonies like he once did. We agreed that Tue shouldn't attend events where strangers' cameras abound. He says that even if we did attend, he would be expected to sit with his group, not with us. 

The studio isn't his second home anymore. Whenever he has to stay later than expected, he comes home with a million apologies, a bouquet of roses for me, and a new toy for Tue. At this point, Tue has an entire colony of plush Nemos on his bed; he sleeps cuddling every single one. It doesn't matter how often I tell him that he has nothing to apologize for; he apologizes and apologizes and I know he will apologize again. 

I know that he feels torn between his roles as Taemin the idol, Taemin the husband, and Taemin the father. I just don't know how to help him. He made so little time for Taemin the human being that, sometime during the first week of May, he had some kind of emotional breakdown at the studio that compelled SHINee to delay the release of their new album. 

Deciding that he didn't want anybody to blame Taemin for the postponement, Jinki offered to take the heat. He told Mom, "Issue a statement claiming that I'm suffering from a gluteal strain after an impromptu breakdancing battle!"

Jinki's Rationale for the Gluteal Strain Story:

"The key is to tell a lie so outrageous that nobody can doubt it! Nobody will question a story about a literal pain in the butt!"

Anyway, that's why Taemin and I have swapped roles lately. He is taking his first break from being an idol to spend time with Tue. While they watch movies and play the piano and work through those online pre-school activities, I am dipping my toes back into the world of recording. I don't know yet what I will do in terms of a career, but I know that Taemin will return to the stage revitalized. He is remarkably resilient, born to shine. 

Knowing I can't alter Taemin's self-perception, I card my fingers through his hair and praise him anyway. "Taemin, Tue learns so much about hard work, passion, and dedication from you. He truly admires you in the purest way. He doesn't see the distinction between his father and his idol because you fulfill those responsibilities so well—so much better than I ever could— so much better than I was willing to try." 

I kiss the crown of Taemin's head as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. "We're so proud of you. Don't forget that." 

"Thank you," Taemin mumbles against my skin. "I haven't forgotten. I just— I'm so proud of you for being Tue's mom, but I'm sorry if I pressured you to walk away from your dreams to carry my weight here—"

"Taemin." I nudge him until he looks down at me with wide apologetic eyes. "You didn't pressure me into anything. You didn't pressure me into anything at all." 

He looks unconvinced, judging by his pout, so I explain, "I have so many dreams! To be a genuine artist, to be a loving daughter, to be a reliable friend, to be a comforting wife, to be an inspiring Mom." 

I wrap my arms around Taemin's waist and hug him closer. "I heard once that growing up is a process of letting your dreams die one by one, but I disagree. Every day that I'm with you, I discover a new dream I don't think I have to choose one over all the others. I just have to find balance. And we'll find it together; that's what we always do." 

Finally, Taemin smiles. I smile. We can breathe again. 

He lays against me, and our chests rise and fall together. We melt a little more, and I— I can't tell where he ends and I begin. I can't remember a time when we were separate beings. I don't ever want to remember. 

"Do you want me to go on Instagram live to say that my wife and son are everything to me? Or should I air footage of one of Tue's baby albums? Or should I post videos and pictures from life with you these past five years? Or should I read our story where anyone can hear?"

Between each question, Taemin has kissed me. His lips hover over mine as he begs, "Tell me what to do, Lei. Tell me how to make your dreams come true, and I'll do it. I'll do anything." 

He doesn't understand that I am already living my dream. I don't know how to make him understand. 

"Just kiss me again," I instruct softly. Sweetly, Taemin complies. "And let's think about something special we can do to love our son on his birthday."

When Taemin and I tiptoe into his room early the next morning, we expect to find Tue fast asleep, snoring into his pillow while clutching a Nemo plushie. Instead, we find him lying with his belly against the floor, kicking his bare feet int he air while doodling on a piece of paper. 

While Taemin sits before Tue, I sit beside him and ask, "Can I see your drawing, baby?" 

Tue has never denied me access to his art before. I love seeing the smile that curls his lips whenever I express interest in his creativity. "Yep!" His enthusiastic nod sends his unruly morning curls flopping. "But I'm not just drawing something, Mommy." 

Taemin's brow furrows as he tries to decipher Tue's handwriting. He is at a disadvantage because a.) from where he sits, Tue's letters are upside down, b.) the note is written entirely in English, which still isn't Taemin's strong suit, and c.) Tue has chosen to write with the palest yellow crayon in his arsenal. 

Sweetly, Taemin asks, "What is it?" Leaning forward, he sets his elbows on the hardwood floor and props his chin in his hands. 

Tue delights in the opportunity to explain anything from why he thinks the sky is blue to why he thinks roses are the prettiest flowers to why Finding Nemo is the best movie ever. His face lights up at Taemin's question.

"It's a letter to Mr. Mark Lee!" Tracing his little fingers along his letters, Tue reads, "Thanks for saying 'Happy Birthday' yesterday. I forgot my birthday. You didn't. You make me very happy!" 

Tue turns the paper so Taemin can read it. "And look! I drew me here and Mr. Mark Lee here, and we have big smiles and party hats!"

When Tue gives Taemin his gappy smile, I can't contain myself. While Taemin takes the paper from Tue's hand, my heart explodes as I pull Tue onto my lap. Holding him around the waist, I pepper his forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin with kisses; he giggles all the while. 

"You're the sweetest boy in the whole world, Tue!" I boast, and he beams at the praise. "Who taught you how to write 'Thank You' notes?" 

"I dunno!" He shrugs his shoulders. "Probably you or Daddy. You and Daddy teach me everything!" 

I raise my eyebrows, giving Taemin this look that means, "I told you so. He knows that you're a great father. I told you so!"

Taemin probably doesn't notice. He smiles at Tue as he returns the paper to his baby soft hand. "You're going to give this to Mr. Mark Lee the next time you see him, right? I bet getting a letter like this would make him very happy." 

At that suggestion, Tue's face burns crimson. In many ways, he is one of the most confident, outgoing people I have ever known; in others, he is even more bashful than I have ever been. In five years of knowing him, I have yet to figure out how he manages that degree of duality. Considering that Tue is forever charming — whether bold or shy — I am inclined to believe duality is another quality he inherited from Taemin. 

As he leans into me and hides his face in my shirt, Tue entrusts his paper to my hand. "Can you give that to Mr. Mark Lee, Mommy? I want to make him very happy, but I can't give it to him! I just can't!

Maybe I should gently nudge Tue out of his comfort zone, especially since there is nothing to fear about approaching Mark. Maybe I should take this chance to teach him that self-expression is nothing to be embarrassed about. I can't do it, though. As precious as he looks with rose-colored cheeks, I can't darken my baby's blush. 

"I'll give it to him," I promise, urging him to lift his head to meet my bright smile. "He'll love it! Now go to Daddy, alright? He's gonna help you get dressed." 

Looking down at his pajamas donning Nemo's face, of course, Tue pouts. He crosses his arms. He really looks and sounds like Taemin when he whines, "I don't wanna get dressed!"

"Well, you have to," Taemin says as he scoops Tue into his arms. Carrying him to the closet, Taemin responds to Tue's whines, "If you don't get dressed, I can't take you to your surprise!"

As I walk to the door, I hear Tue squeal, "Surprise?" Taemin laughs at his reaction. Tue's squeal and Taemin's laugh are the reasons why I smile when I walk downstairs to tell everybody that the birthday boy is on his way. 

. . . 

I push the curtains aside and from my side of the kitchen window, I watch Donghae carrying Tue on his shoulders in the pool. Following Mom's instruction to "Behave! At least around the baby!" Heechul stands beside them, donning a smile for Lucas's camera. 

The sight is especially comforting considering how annoying Donghae and Heechul were at the beginning. Apparently, when nobody was listening, Heechul told Tue, "Call me Grandpa, and call him—" he pointed a finger at Donghae— "Grandpa 2." 

Tue was too young and too sweet to understand that Heechul was up to his old shenanigans of competing with Donghae, so he followed the instruction faithfully, much to Donghae's dismay. 

"Don't worry," Tue said to Donghae's frown, flashing him a big toothy smile. "I'm a 2 too!"

I wish I or Mom or Lucas— since he has appointed himself the family photographer— had recorded the smile Tue sculped onto Donghae's face. I would love to carry a picture of it with me so I could show it to you and everybody I meet, saying, "This is my son's mark on the world, and it's the most beautiful mark anybody has ever made. He is five years old, and he has never hurt a living creature. He is five years old, and he makes smiles wherever he goes." 

My mental images of Tue's gappy smile and those he leaves in his wake are among my most prized possessions. I am admiring them when Mark walks in through the back door, carrying an empty bowl. 

His eyes widen as if he has interrupted something. He beelines to the refrigerator, muttering, "Your mom said there's more watermelon in the fridge." 

Glancing down at the platter of snacks I have assembled, I frown at the utter lack of watermelon. "I should have known that we would need more watermelon with you and Tue eating at the same place at the same time." 

Mark laughs, dropping the empty bowl into the sink. "Well, what can I say?" He grabs the bowl of sliced watermelon Mom prepared last night and tosses a slice into his mouth. "Little man and I have good taste!"

"Speaking of little man—" I smile at Mark's nickname for Tue as I close the refrigerator door and point to a pinned paper— "he wrote this for you." 

After setting the bowl onto the counter, Mark takes the page into his hand. He doesn't have to squint to make out the letters. "He's writing 'Thank You' letters? To me? At five years old?"

I can't help but smile at Mark's awestruck expression. "You made his day, and I guess he wanted you to know."

Mark's slack-jawed expression transforms into a radiant smile. "Can I keep this?" 

"It's for you," I repeat, nodding, "so I think you're supposed to keep it. See the little faces at the bottom?" Mark nods, so I explain, "The artist says the big one is you and the little one is his latest self-portrait." 

Mark smiles at the paper once more before folding it into his pocket. As we grab our snacks, we walk together to the back door. We stop once Mark asks, "Before we go back outside, can I ask you something?" 

"Yeah." There's something petrifying about Mark's quiet voice, so I hope my smile will encourage him to speak up. "What's up?" 

"You know how I'm working with the trainees?" When I nod, Mark continues, "As far as I'm concerned they're all set talent-wise. I only really work with them on dancing and rapping— Taeil is the vocal instructor." 

Based on what I saw in the final five minutes of dance practice yesterday, I agree. It seems that the trainees get better with each generation. "They seem like they will make excellent artists one day." 

"They will!" Mark beams, seeming as proud of his trainee's progress as he is of his own achievements. "I've been thinking about how else I can help them grow, and I think maybe we should spend time talking about, like, emotional wellbeing."

"That sounds like a good idea." I, for one, could have benefited from learning about that as a trainee. 

"I'm glad you think so," Mark says slowly, "because I kind of want you to help me with those conversations." 

My jaw drops. "Me?" By no means have I ever considered myself an expert on emotional wellbeing. "Why?"

Mark's head goes aslant; he looks at me as if challenging me to look at myself. "When I think of strength, I think about how you carried yourself in training when those girls were mean to you. I think about how you stayed best friends even when people watched you and whispered. I think about how you didn't fall apart when the media used to speculate about the idol who never debuted. I think about how you held your head high when people criticized you for dating, then marrying, then having a baby with Taemin. But mostly— " Mark smiles — "I think about how you changed your whole life for Lucas Tue. I can't think of anyone better to teach the trainees that as much as we love music, as much as we love being idols, there is a lot more to life than the spotlight." 

I blink, wondering how, when, and why Mark became so well-spoken. My gaze falls onto the snack platter in my hands. "I— I don't know how to teach anybody that." 

Mark sighs, dejected, and I compulsively admit, "But I want to learn. I would love to learn, Mark."

Before Mark can reply, Tue runs in through the open back door, asking, "Mommy, where—" 

His voice falls flat as his eyes widen at the sight of Mark. "Mr. Mark Lee," Tue stutters, "I— I—" 

Before Mark can reply, Tue runs back outside. 

Mark looks at me, raising his eyebrows. "What did I do?"

Making my way out the door and into the summer sun, I explain, "He's being bashful because of that letter. He gets into shy moods from time to time." 

"Oh, okay." As we set our snacks onto the table, Mark asks, "Wait, did I hear you right? Did you mean that you would help me with the trainees?" 

From their sunchairs nearest to the snack table, Lucas and Taemin look up. Tue has concealed his flustered face against Taemin's chest, and he doesn't perk up at the sound of Mark's voice; he retreats further into Taemin's embrace. 

Taemin meets my eyes. Although he is reluctant to pressure me with vocal encouragement, he offers a gentle smile that seems to whisper, "Go for it. You can do anything." 

Lucas, true to who he has always been and always will be, is much louder about his support. He lowers his sunglasses. "Wait, you're gonna help me and Mark with the trainees? As in, we're having a mini ot8 SuperM reunion?" 

Mark glances at me with apologetic eyes as he pops another slice of watermelon into his mouth. Once upon a time, I think I would have glared at anyone for putting me on the spot like that. Depending on who it was, I might have even scolded them. I can't bring myself to scold Mark, though; I can't bring myself to glare at him, and I don't want to try. 

"I'll help," I decide easily, "in any way I can." 

I guess I don't want to disappoint Mark's perception of me; I want to live up to it. I guess I want to believe Yesung— that I am meant to share my voice. I guess I want to believe Mom—  that I can make the world a happier, brighter place with my light shining in it. I guess I want to be to the trainees who Mark is to them, who Mom has always been to me: someone who works a million times harder than the light dampeners to keep their light burning. 

Tue lifts his head from Taemin's chest to cheer, "You can do it, Mommy! You're the best helper!"

As I sit by his side, Taemin raises his eyebrows, giving me a look that means, "I told you so. He knows you perfectly. I told you so." 

"Thank you, baby," I wink at Tue. I whisper in his ear, "Mr. Mark Lee loves your letter, by the way." 

Tue smiles and lays his head back on Taemin's chest. When he closes his eyes, he looks exhausted. I think he falls asleep in an instant.

Lucas follows Mark to the pool, I think, for fear of waking Tue with his booming voice. Thus, Taemin and I are alone with our son again, even at the bustling party hosted in his honor.

Taemin asks, "Are you happy today?" in a voice so quiet that I think he's whispering sweet nothing to our sleeping boy until his eyes rise to meet mine. "I remember you said, once upon a time, 'Life doesn't always go as planned, and I think that's okay as long as you like where you end up.' And I'm wondering again if you like where you ended up— if you like where you're going next." 

My heart always flips when Taemin quotes our story. "I recall saying, 'Anywhere with you is where I want to end up.'" I reach for Taemin's hand— the one closest to me, the one that isn't secured around Tue. "I still feel that way, Anywhere with you is where I want to go next." 

Taemin flashes a sparkling smile before puckering his lips, wordlessly daring me to kiss him. Because I am no coward, I accept the dare before he can even blink. And just when I think that this moment is too beautiful to pass, I hear it. 

The snapping of Lucas's camera capturing us in a photograph.

[bangtancentricsblog]

○ souleater ○

➣ he didn’t only eat souls he broke hearts too

❒ pairing: jung hoseok x reader

❒ genre: angst

❒ alternative universe: soul eater (anime), college

❒ rating: NC 17

❒ word count: 2.1 k

warnings/disclosures: meisters yoongi, mc and namjoon, death weapons jungkook, hoseok, jimin and taehyung, meister teacher seokjin, nothing too bad that I can think of but let me know if I missed anything!

monster mash ml • main ml • AO3

some quick vocab for my non anime fans:

kishin - is a human who has hunted too many good souls thus possessing a vast amount of dangerous destructive power

meister (i.e. mc) - essentially the 'hero', the one who fights the battles with their death weapon partners the first half of a weapons meister duo.

death weapon (i.e. hoseok) - a human who can take form of traditional weapons the second half of a weapons meister duo.

DWMA - death weapon meister academy in the soul eater anime is a 'hero' school that teaches it's students how to help keep the world in order.

“Hoseok is such a dick.” the blonde two rows back says.

“For a weapon he’s pretty full of himself. I heard he’s got a crush on his meister.” another adds as heat floods your face. Hoseok in love with you? No you couldn’t believe that, not Hoseok, you were only partners you reasoned. The whispers of that particular group grew louder still as more girls joined in adding to the already ongoing conversation. You had never cared what people thought of you and Hoseok, more so because you were a strong pair, ranked in the top three of the academy. Besides yourself there was Yoongi and Jungkook, followed by Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung. All of whom were close friends and none that had ever given the vaguest hint that Hoseok had harbored any type of feelings for you.

Though the same couldn't be said for yourself, because how could you not? He was bright and your wavelengths had been so compatible it’d almost been like fate that you two be weapon and meister. In fact he’d been the one to approach you the first day of classes, a decision neither of you had regretted since. And yet you had gone and fallen in love with him like some normal love sick teenager and not one of the top three meisters in the DWMA. You had come to this school to create a death scythe, falling in love had not been in the plan. Yet here you were, Jungkook nudged you a furrow to his brow as he did.

“Do you think Jin will be here today?” he asks.

“Why?”

“I didn't do the homework and I’m thinking of skipping.” you weigh your answer for the briefest of moments before answering.

“I saw him earlier so now would be a great time to leave.” you say with a grin that sets jungkook off, he’s not sure whether to believe you. So he decided he’s going to skip anyway, he’s hopping out of his seat startling a yelp from Yoongi a row behind you as he sees his partner zip down the stairs of the amphitheater.

“Jungkook, thank you for volunteering!” Jin says with a laugh placing both hands on his shoulders and turning him to face the class. The room erupts into snickers, even you laugh at the betrayal etched into his pretty features.

*

You’re studying with Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung as you’ve been giving study hall now that you have become fourth years. The earlier conversation between those girls plagues your mind, and not for the first time you question your relationship with Hoseok. He’s not a bad guy so you’re not entirely sure what it was those girls were talking about. Maybe it’s because he stuck out, but then they would talk about your whole group because truth be told you eight were an odd bunch. Namjoon and his two weapon partners Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi the reserved yet overpowered and Jungkook the quirky usually quiet but troublesome and then there was your peculiar relationship with Jin your teacher.

Jimin has been staring at you since you’ve started clicking your pen, the pensive look you have says it all as you continue to do so even as Taehyung calls your name softly. He’s sure your thinking about the conversation between your classmates earlier which to him is dumb because eww Hoseok. But he knows that gross lovesick puppy look that flashes across your eyes is proof that you are indeed still in love with him. He glances at Namjoon who hasn't noticed that the three of you had stopped working, then to Taehyung who meets his gaze eagerly.

“___, honey please stop.” Jimin says an overly sweet tone filling your ears and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you.” you mumble tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“What’s bothering you?” Taehyung chimes in a tone so genuine Jimin wants to gag.

“Nothing, just y'know, the usual.” you laugh softly feeling your stomach drop.

“Is it Hoseok again?” Jimin asks.

“I wouldn’t say it is, but i wouldn't say it isn't either.”

“What about him then?” Taehyung says, taking your hand in his.

“I don't know.”

“We’re not doing that.” Jimin says brows pinched together.

“I’m sorry.” you murmur pulling your hand from Taehyung’s. Jimin can feel his anger build but not at you, never at you because you’re his soft sweet friend that he loves to death. His anger is directed at that idiot hoseok who he knows is a total ass but your poor baby heart can’t help but like. Again eww, Jungkook would be a better candidate for those feelings he thinks staring long and hard as you tuck stray curls behind your ears. God your cute, any stinky boy at your school would be lucky to have you and you want Hoseok of all people.

“Is it because of what those girls said?” Taehyung says reaching for your hands again, an annoying habit of his that you don’t seem to mind too much.

“Does Hoseok, I mean do you think h-he might like me?”

“Don’t worry about trivial things like that, Hoseok is your friend.” Namjoon adds scaring Jimin who had forgotten he was there.

“So you don't think so? Should I ask him out or something?”

“Definitely not, Hoseok is weird about things like that. Just stick to the norm if Hoseok likes you, he’ll tell you.” Namjoon says calmly flashing you a smile as he picks up.

“Okay, thanks Joonie. Where are you going?”

“I’m done studying, so I’m going home. I expect you two to actually finish your work before you do the same.”

“Don’t say it like that, if anything Taehyung is the one who should get the warning!” Jimin says with a huff. You laugh as the two boys argue amongst themselves over who is most likely to take the class over again. All thoughts of Hoseok gone for the time being.

*

It’s been weeks of Hoseok literally avoiding you at every possible turn. He skips class, eats lunch at odd times, he doesn’t come home till you’re asleep, and only talks to your friends when you’re not around. It’s annoying to say the least, mostly because he’s never acted this way before. But on the other hand he’s been the talk of the school girl giggling amongst themselves, boys sneering at the mere mention of him, even teachers have his name on their lips. You’ve reached your limit and no amount of Jimin and Taehyung talking you down can stop you. You’re hurt, mostly because Hoseok was your friend, and you can't think of a reason that he’d do something like this.

Unfortunately you don’t have the luxury to confront him as easily as you had hoped. This weird phase between you lasts another couple of weeks because try as you might Hoseok is really good at hiding. Something you ever thought you’d have to learn because he’d never hidden from you, from the boys maybe but not you. So imagine your surprise when you get the chance to hunt down another keishan, making it his 87th keishan soul only 12 away from a witch’s. Thirteen in total till he could become a death scythe, only thirteen till you’d have to say goodbye to him forever. Just because you wouldn’t be partners anymore didn’t mean you couldn’t be friends, you reasoned, shaking the thoughts from your mind as you walked along the lone path through the forest of a neighboring town.

The moon shone down on you eerily, casting shadows across the dirt, almost like little pockets of light to show you the way. The silence was unsettling, the thicker of leaves and branches that hung overhead enough of a sign that this forest should’ve been filled with wildlife. And yet not a single sound, not an owl's hoot, not a crickets chirp, not even the slight breeze made a sound. A chill raced up your spine as you stopped catching Hoseok’s attention as he moved to stand beside you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something is off, I’m not sure but I don’t like this Hobi.” You murmured, taking his hand. To anyone else you’d seem like any normal young adult, you, a frightened little thing while your boyfriend reassured you that everything was okay, only you weren’t. You were holding Hoseok’s hand not for reassurance but to better your chances of not missing your target when they appeared, and if you were right then they’d be coming at you any second now.

As if on queue they come barreling at you from above, a manic look in their eyes. You’d called Hoseok’s name softly, calmly, while dodging the first few swipes of their long arms. Hoseok had taken the queue easily transforming to his weapon form, the rapier now sat perfectly in your palm. Hoseok was a beautiful specimen in human form but his weapon form was just as beautiful. A sleek silver blade, with an intricately detailed golden hilt, the weight rested comfortably in your palm.

You sighed as the keishan stood and watched as you stood stock still a little miffed that it caught the corner of your duster cardigan, because it was new! The boots you wore were caked in mud but that could be washed out you supposed.

“Hey are you gonna do something about that thing or what?”

“Shut up Hoseok.” You sighed again because you really didn’t wanna be here right now. But a job was a job you guessed as you planted your feet firmly on the ground narrowing your gaze as it sprinted towards you. You hated these things especially when they moved this fast, this was gonna be a mess you thought finally pushing off the ground and charging towards it.

*

Hoseok is pleased he didn’t really have to get too involved in this job because as strong as you were you could be really clumsy. But he liked how efficient you were when taking down your foe. The soul of the keishan sat there waiting for him to eat it, and he usually wouldn’t hesitate but there was something bothering him about this, mostly you. You’d been unusually quiet this hunt, almost pensive if he had to say so. So he wanted to know what it was that was bothering you, he reasoned grasping the soul while turning to look at you.

You were crouched over some wild mushroom, back facing him because you claimed it grossed you out to see him eat the souls. He agreed because not all of them tasted great, but he digressed.

“What’s wrong?” He starts just to break the ice.

“Nothing why? Are you done yet, cause I wanna go home I’m tired.” You mutter, pulling up the mushrooms trying to recall if they were edible or not.

“Yeah.” He sighs, quickly shoving the soul into his mouth, chewing once, then twice before swallowing. This one hadn’t been as gross as the last one. The texture was nice, almost as good as a medium rare steak he thought as he waits for you to stand. Except you don’t, you’ve stopped playing with the mushrooms and just sit quietly.

“Hoseok, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like me?” He’s frozen, his head quirked slightly really letting your question settle in.

“Of course I like you, we’re partners.” He says, wetting his lips.

“No, I mean more than friends. Do you like, like me?”

“Why does that matter? We’re partners and I like you but, but not like that.” You say nothing, finally standing to your full height. His hands are clammy as you turn to look at him, eyes wide and glassy. He can see the tears that pool at your lash line, your lip trembles as you let out a choked half sob half laugh. He feels bad, because he didn't want to do this to you. Had never meant to break your poor loved up heart this way, because Hoseok loved you like a friend and would rather hurt himself than hurt you.

“I knew that, I mean it’s obvious why would you like me right?”

“I never said that.”

“It’s okay Hoseok I understand, you don’t need to explain.” you say and he wants to hug you close and make sure you understand that it’s really not you but him. He steps closer ready to embrace you, but you step back hands out to keep him from coming any closer.

“Let’s go home.” you mutter with a watery smile turning on your heel and making your trek back to your dorm with the broken pieces of your heart in hand.

[zxddy-panther]

Blessed

A/N: Hey guysss! I really feel so bad for not writing at all but I finally have something out for you guys. For all those who are still wondering, yes I am still going to write my Summer Walker inspired BP series. I just have to get all these drafts posted for yall before I post them. This one kind of took a while so I hope you all enjoy it. Also if you want to read all my stories I do have a masterlist posted but all my works are on my wattpad (@zxddy_panther)

Erik X Black!reader

Summary: A breakup between you and Erik has led you both into a deep hole of despair but there is still a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warning: Self harm, depression, some fluff later on

 You wandered the rainy streets of Albany with your dark hoodie, walking slowly in despair. Body slouched and face drooping with sorrow, your mind replaying the moments of weeks ago. The yelling, the harsh words, the tears, and worst of all: the breakup. The relationship truly wasn't bad but you woke up to the harsh reality that it was you. It was your own mind that was pressuring you to believe things that weren't true, that weren't real. It ultimately broke your relationship and you had no one to blame but yourself. It has become your biggest and deepest regret letting him go because you truly did love this man.    

You loved Erik Stevens but you just didn't know if he loved you too.      

*****    

The key allowed access to your cold, dark apartment as you tracked your wet rain boots onto your floor. You slipped them off and set them near the door and headed towards the bathroom, ready to commit yourself to the same miserable regime. Turning on the lights and looking forward, you stared into the eyes of a now lost soul. You were disgusted by the person in the mirror because THEY ruined your conscience. THEY ruined your self esteem and THEY ruined your relationship but you soon realized that they.....is you. Your eyes welled with tears as you threw off your damp sweater and opened the drawer under the sink. Grabbing the razor you quickly put it against the skin of your arm and pulled back with speed. Your actions slowed as you watched the dark red blood begin to rise up from the long cut along your brown skin. A numb feeling washed over you as you continued the motion over and over and over again. Place, push, and drag. Place, push, and drag.

You looked down at your numb and bloody arm with tears streaming down your face. Tear drops fell onto the many wounds and made you hiss in pain. "I've gotta get this shit cleaned up" you thought. Your body makes its way towards the bathtub to fill it with warm water. After you removed all your clothes you looked at yourself once more in the mirror. The now scarred lines that ran across your thighs and your new stripes shone red all across your arm. This will always remind you that you deserved this. Your head slowly turned back to the tub that was done filling up, you headed towards it. Placing one leg after another into the bath water, you allowed yourself to completely submerge yourself in the liquid and drowned yourself in utter silence.    

*******    

Its been about 40 minutes since you started staring at the ceiling fan in your room just mindlessly thinking. You felt so empty and physically drained from all the tears and emotions that you have been letting out. A silent buzzing from your phone woke you from your trance. You rolled on your bed towards your night stand and grabbed the phone to check who was calling you. The caller ID read: Erik. Everything froze and your world stood completely still. You were shocked and had no idea what to do as your hands shook frantically. The vibrating stopped and you took a look at your phone again to see that you had 10 missed calls from him prior to this. "How did I not hear this?" you thought to yourself. "Do I call him back?" The ring quickly started back up and you hit the answer button as fast as you could. Putting the phone to your ear, you took a deep breath and spoke for the first time in weeks.    

"Hello?" you whispered. All that could be heard was ragged breathing on the other line. You sat and listened, waiting for any type of response.    

A hushed "Y/N?" came from the other side. Your eyes shot opened and your heart rate increased.    

"Yes Erik...."    

"Y/N.." you waited. "I-I need you please. Im freaking out baby please come back I cant do this without you. I need you here with me Y/N. Please come back to me."    

You quickly ended the call and shot up from your bed. Throwing on some clothes, you headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your car keys.    

*******      

You arrived at Erik's door step feeling crazy for even doing this. You fumbled with your keys to find his spare house key still attached. Inserting the key into the lock, turning it, and pushing the door open you were greeted with a body curled up in corner of the living room. Erik was rocking himself back and forth, sobbing, repeatedly saying your name. You used your foot to close the door and his head shot up.    

He looked just as tired and drained as you. His once beautifully braided locs were now frizzed and out of braids. Dark brown bags surrounded his eyes as if he hasn't slept for days. You slowly walked towards him while he rose to his feet. The two of you kept your distance, standing awkwardly in the middle of his living room, until his eyes met yours. When your eyes locked it was like your emotions were also in sync with one another. You watched his eyes start to well up and his face begin to distort as he tried to hold his tears back. Closing the distance, you began to walk towards him and cupped your hand on his cheek. His eyes slowly closed as he leaned into your touch, allowing his tears to finally fall.    

"Baby..." he let out. "I-I need you in my life. Its like I-I." His hands began to shake as he brought them up, clenching his fists." Its like I cant live without you Y/N. I don't want to live without you." He looked down and quickly grabbed your hands to hold. "What happened? What happened to us? Was it me? Because if it was I swear to Bast that I'll fix it just- just give me another chance" The volume of his voice started to pick up. "Please come back to me Y/N." His hands gradually rose up to grab your arms softly but, even his gentle touch caused great pain to your wounds. You snatched your arms away and hissed in pain. He looked up at you with a confused look plastered on his face.       

Erik had a feeling to what was going on but, he just didnt want to belive it. You promised him months ago that you wouldn't revert back to hurting yourself. He prayed that he was wrong but  lifting up your sleeves revealed the harsh red lines across your arms. He closed his eyes as more tears fell from his droppy eyes.    

"Y/n. Did I do this to you?" He brought his hand up to your face and brushed your tear away with his thumb.     

"No no. It wasnt you Erik. It was never you." You decided that it was time to let him know the truth. The weight that you've been carrying on your shoulders has gotten heavy enough.    

*********    

"Y/N...Im sorry. I shouldnt have left-" You placed a finger over his lips which stopped his words. Your eyes took him in again once more. His skin and lips still as soft as you remembered. The message was clear as day when the two of you locked eyes. Erik took your face in his hands once and placed his lips on yours. Both of your lips moved in sync while tears came streaming down your faces. He slowly sucked on your bottom lip and let out a small sigh. He missed this. He missed you.    

You pulled away for breath but held fast to his body.      

"No Erik. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I made you feel like this. That I made you feel like this was all your fault when it wasn't. It was mine. I was always so insecure about how you truly felt about me and-" Tears started to choke you up but this time you let them fall. You were so tired of holding back your feelings and thoughts. "And I always felt like you didn't love me as much as I love you."    

The phrase replayed itself in his mind. This was the first time that anyone had said that they loved him. His troubled past had put him in the mindset that he could never be loved. Today was the day that he was finally proven wrong. He always knew that he had a great girl who always found time to see him, even in the worst circumstances. Someone who was always down for him, and someone who would never leave his side.

You heard him begin to chuckle as his smile spread across his face. You looked up at him confused, feeling stupid for confessing your deepest feelings.    

"Whatever Erik" You began to turn away from him and started heading towards the door until he grabbed your hand, pulling you back into his chest. He looked down at you while resting his hand on the small of your back. His dark ember eyes starred deeply into yours, unraveling you as you stood.    

"If only you knew how much I love you. I'm so blessed to have you in my life but I need you to know that-" He brought his face closer to yours, looking from your lips to your eyes. " I love you more than words can say."    

(Please message/repost to let me know if you want to be on the taglist because im still tagging random people :/ )

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy​ @wakandanblogger​ @wakandamama​ @marvelheaux​ @melaninmarvelgirl62​ @killmongersgurl​ @killmonger-dolan​ @heyauntieeee​ @hearteyes-for-killmonger​ @eriksjournal​ @hearteyes-ficrecs​ @justanotherloveaffair​ @theunsweetenedtruth​ @supersizemeplz​

[thisistenhyungsunderwear]

Hey! I was wondering if you could please do a really soft and really fluffy Byeongkwan smut? I don't really have an idea for the plot (sorry!) But I was thinking something along the lines of best friends to lovers with Byeongkwan, he thinks it's a one time thing but the reader assures him it isn't and that she loves him. I hope that's okay and that you have a good day!

Here you go love!!

Group: Ace

Dom!Byeongkwan, Sub!Reader

Warnings: soft sex, really fluffy lovey stuff, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it)

Word Count: 2449

On your way home, your phone went off, and the from the ringtone you knew exactly who it was. So at the next red light, you quickly rushed to open your message and response.

Byeongkwanie

Y/n come to to dorm~

The boys all left let's have a sleepover !!

Y/n

Uh huhh

On my way :))

You threw your phone back down on the seat and waited for the green light and did an immediate u-turn back towards the direction of A.C.E's dorm.

You didn't need a bag with clothes or a toothbrush, you practically lived at the boy's dorm at this point. So everything you needed was already there in Byeongkwan's room and the bathroom. You went there fast, and wasted no time running up into the dorm, excited to spend the night with your best friend again.

For the fourth time this week. 

The trip up the stairs was short, they only lived a few floors up, and the doors were unlocked because he was of course, expecting you. 

"What is up my favorite human being." You announced as you walked through the door and into the living room, a wild Byeongkwan relaxing on the couch. He jumped at the sound of your voice, but quickly settled down once he realized it was just you. 

"Why hello there. That was quick." He said getting up and giving you a fast hug. "Sweats and tshirt on on the bed." He told you before walking to the kitchen to grab you two some food. 

You smiled and skipped to his bedroom, where he layed out your favorite pair of sweats and one of his oversized tshirts, which you were one to always steal from him. You threw off your jeans and hoodie and quickly put on the comfy clothes, instant relief and happiness washing over you. 

You walked back out to the living room and Byeongkwan had set up snacks and drinks and a cute little rom com on the TV for you two.

"Movie night!" he looked at you with pure adoration and excitement, which made you giggle at his childlike attitude. You nodded and plopped down beside him, not forgetting to pick up the blanket on the arm of the couch for the two of you. 

He leaned back and you opened and threw the blanket over the two of you and cuddles into his side as he pressed play and leaned into you. 

The movie was cute, but it wasn't something you were most interested in. You tried to pay attention, but you kept getting lost in your thoughts and getting distracted a little too easily. Byeongkwan on the other hand was far gone in the movie, so much he didn't even acknowledge your disinterest and constant movement. 

You started shuffling more and more, maybe from the fact that your legs were falling asleep under you, or that you wanted to get his attention and possibly change the movie without telling him straight up, either way you were not comfortable and needed to change. 

You were sitting on the spot where the cushions met each other, so your body had long ago sunken into the gap and you started to push yourself up and backwards, and the closest thing for leverage was of course, Byeongkwan's thigh.

You rested your hand on his upper thigh and used almost all of your strength to push yourself up and further into his side. 

"Y/n.." He said as he tensed up from the sudden contact. Yeah you two were best friends, and yeah you played around. Skinship was no secret between you two, but where your hand was under the blanket, and the setting you two were in, Byeongkwan's heart was going a mile a minute because of you. 

"Yeah?" You asked, turning your head to look at him. You in the middle of pushing yourself all the way up, and the position you were in, when you turned your head, you were nose to nose with Byeongkwan who was staring down at you, watching your every movement.

Your breathing hitched when you noticed then proximity, and your gaze kept shifting between his eyes and the position of your faces. You locked eyes with him and tried to read his eyes, but it was too dark and you couldn't read his mind this time around. 

"Byeongkwan.." you whispered as your voice trailed off. Neither of you had moved from your position. It was almost as though you two wanted the same things but neither of you wanted to do it first. Tension built up in the air as you shifted between his eyes again. He kept a steady stare into yours, his face was hard as if he was lost in his own thoughts. 

Neither of you did anything, so when your arm began to give out from holding you up, you started to slowly shift backwards and let your elbow bend to lower you back down. 

Byeongkwan barely gave you a second to start moving before he shot his hand up to grab your attention and halt your movements. You looked back up at him and he quickly shifted his gaze between your eyes before making his final decision.

He reached up with his hand and put it on the side of your cheek, swiping his thumb across the high of your cheekbone and leaning down. He got centimeters away from your lips, his breathing hard and nervous. His heart never went faster, his adrenaline never shot so high. He stopped right before he made contact, giving you a chance to pull back. But you didn't. You froze in your spot, and waited for him to close the proximity. You palms sweated against his thigh and the couch.

He saw no hesitation or disinterest in his actions so, with a deep breath he allowed your lips to meet. At first it was still, just the feeling of him against you. You let your body relax and lean down but didn't disconnect your lips with him. He queued in on the change in your body language and slowly began to move his lips against yours. A million words behind the emotion in his kiss spoke to you at once. 

You kissed him back, moving your lips against his and brought your hand up from the couch cushion to his chest, where you felt the rapidness of his heart beat. This made yours only race more, you felt the pounding inside your chest get faster and faster, it felt like your chest was going to explode. 

Byeongkwan slowly worked his way with his mouth as he leaned forward into you, pushing you backwards on the couch and getting on top of you. He supported himself with one arm as he took the other and held the back of your head so you would land softly on the couch cushion underneath you. 

"Tell me now, if you want me to stop. If you don't want to go further." He whispered as he pulled back, anxiously searching you for hesitation. You smiled at his concern and took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and playing with his messy hair.

"I want this right now, just you." You said with a small smile breaking out on your face. He nodded and reconnected your lips. You shifted a little underneath his, opening your legs so you could hook them around his hips and place his core against your own. He groaned from the new contact and licked your lower lip, begging for permission to deepen the kiss. You gladly granted it to him, opening your mouth.

You didn't fight for dominance, you let him in submissively as he left no corner of your mouth untouched. 

You matched his heavier pace and took one of your arms to drag down from the back of his neck to the collar of his shirt, pulling on it a little bit, telling him to take it off. He pulled back and quickly pulled the back of his shirt over his neck and threw it down next to the couch.

You sat up slightly and took the hem of the shirt and lifted it over your head and let it hang off the arm of the couch behind you. 

He smiled and went back down, attaching his lips to the spot where your neck met your ear and lightly kissed and sucked his way down, both of your bare chests creating delicious friction against each other. 

Your hands shot up to the back of his neck when he attached his lips to your nipple, sucking it lightly, playing with the other in his other hand. You arched your back and started to grind your hips against him begging for friction from him. He ran his hands against the sides of your torso, kissing in between the valley of your breasts to give your other nipple the same amount of attention as he gave the other one. You let out a little whimper, shutting your eyes and getting lost in the feeling. He smiled against your chest and started to kiss down the center of your stomach where he reached the waistband of your sweats.

He said nothing as he looked up at you, giving you one last chance to bail out from going any further. You nodded and bucked your hips up, telling him to do it. He nodded and sat up on his knees, wrapping his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and underwear and pulling them down and off of your legs. 

He placed his palms on the inner part of your thigh and spread your legs for him even wider. Not even the darkness of the living room could hide how wet you were for him.

"So beautiful." He whispered, and it felt like he wasn't even saying it to you. He said it without even thinking you could hear him.

"No fair, your turn." You pouted, sitting up and tugging on the waistband of his sweatpants. He chuckled and nodded, quickly standing up and pulling them down, and then taking his spot in between your legs. 

"The amount of things I want to do to you right now," He said staring down at your naked figure in awe. His eyes shone with never leaving adoration and love.

"Don't care, I need you now. Please. I need to feel you." You whispered desperately, your core ached from the lack of attention, your wetness dripping down your core. You were so ready for him, just the idea of him made you wet.

"Your wish is my command." He said leaning down to your level. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip up and down your core, collecting your wetness over him. You bucked your hips and shot your hand up to grip his bicep.

He positioned himself once again and slowly lurched forward into you, his eyes never leaving your face as it contorted in pleasure, your grip on his arm tightening even more. 

"Holy shit-" You whispered as he bottomed out. He stayed there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the size of him. He filled you up so perfectly and it almost made you cum right then and there.

After a minute you tapped his arm and gave him the signal to continue. He slowly began thrusting into you slowly rocking his hips into you. He grunted each time he pushed into you, your core contracting around him every time.

"So tight" He praised, slightly picking up the pace and leaning down to connect your lips. It wasn't necessarily a kiss, just a way to connect you two in more than one way.  He rocked into you at a steady pace that created tiny whimpers from you. 

He pulled back from the kiss, his forehead starting to bead with sweat, and he rested his head in the crook of your neck, supporting himself on his forearms next to your head. When the kiss was disconnected you opened your mouth and let the tiny whimpers and moans escape into the quiet room. 

Your sounds of pleasure only encouraged him, and he slightly picked up his pace, as he sat back up and used his hand to traced small circles over your clit.

"Byeongkwan, fuck" You moaned as you arched your back. You grinded your hips to meet his thrusts, and took your free hands to massage your breasts, exceeding the most amount of pleasure you could get. 

"Shit I'm so close." You whine at the growing pit in your stomach, his circles around your clit increasing pace.

"Hold on, i'm almost there." He said, his once consistent pace getting sloppier. He started to go faster and threw his head back in pleasure. 

"Shit okay now." He said as he increased his speed to the max before pulling out and releasing his seed onto your stomach. You reached your highs at the same time, your body jolting with the never ending pleasure of his fingers on your sensitive spot. He didn't stop his fingers until you rode out the very ends of your high and bucked your hips from the sensitivity of your climax. 

He slouched down slightly, reeling in and collecting his thoughts. You smiled and let your body relax and loosened all your muscles, the sounds of your labored breathing being the only sounds in the room. 

Once you two relaxed, you looked up at his tired, kneeling figure. So you shuffled over to the side, giving him enough space to lay down next to you. He gladly took the position and layed down on his right side, back against the back of the couch. You reached to the floor next to you and threw the blanket over you as he wrapped his left arm around your waist and drew circles on your stomach. 

You two were silent for a while, but at one moment he decided to break the silence, the awkward tension could be cut by a knife. 

"Y/n," He said quietly, "is this...is this just an in the moment thing. Do you want me to pretend this didn't happen. Do you...Do you feel anything after this?" he rambled, you could hear the anxiety ridden in his voice. 

"Byeongkwan, I, I really like you." you confessed, your heart racing. "I dont, I dont want this to be forgotten, I want you. If, If you'll have me?" you asked.

"I love you." He said quietly, looking up at you."

"And I love you. Always."

[chalkolate-fr]

Project Constantine

I realize I’d never shared my robo boy’s lore here like I promised, so here it is!

I’m on mobile so I can’t put a read more :/ I’ll add the long post tag though! Hope you like the story!

And since tumblr hates l*nks I’ll just drop his ID and if anyone wants to check out his bio that’d be great! It’s way more organize than this tumblr post anyways ^^:

#48635920

—————

His body was crafted by dragon hands, shaped into the image of the Lightweaver’s creation. Like the tales of the gods, his creator had molded dragons after their own reptilian image, each breed distinguishable to each other yet still similar.

His mind, however, would be credited to another force. His creator, Argaesia, could not have fathomed or grasped the ability to grant consciousness. She only knew that when she powered up her machine's completed, cold, mechanical body, electrical magic flowed within; although, only one type of magic wasn't enough.

And once again, taking an homage back to the tale of the gods, especially the Arcanist, life was birthed from the machine. Maybe the Arcanist had seen the potential of new life like the machine that created him gave. A wisp of magic, violet and flowing, slipped between the cracks of the door, between the crevices of metal in the machine's body, tangling together with the blue tendrils.

Constantine opened his eyes, electricity filling his veins, and arcane magic shone through the hollow of the automaton. The machine whirred, newborn life flowing through the copper veins.

—————

"Ah, good, you're awake!"

A voice floats down from a distance, light, lilting and silky.

"You can open your eyes, now, no need to keep them shut,"

His lids slide open, allowing the light of the world to filter through. He scanned his surroundings, turning his head stiffly.

Amber candlelight dotted the room, illuminating the dragon grinning in front of him. The curtains beside him were loosely shut together, letting a few strips of blue morning light inside. Scraps, wires, tools, and metal littered the space, cluttered to no end. The dragon in front of him watched him intently. Numerous pairs of electric cyan eyes focus on him, and the corners of the Spiral's mouth turns upwards when she has observed him for a few seconds, seemingly satisfied. She jots something down on her clipboard. The Spiral knocked on his side, metallic echoes coming from his skin.

"Good, good..." She mutters, looking back up at his face. "much better."

"Now, let's try something... hmm..." The Spiral taps her claws rapidly against the clipboard she's holding, scribbling with her other hand. "Turn your head to the door."

He does as he's told, joints whirring, facing towards the dented and beat-up iron door. She seemed to be satisfied, writing down even more. He assumed she wrote about him on the paper.

"Try to say something to me,"

He opens his mouth, and noticed that the metal of his jaws did not creak loudly like last time before he slept.

"He...llo."

"Needs some work, but you're doing better! Move your right leg, wiggle them around,"

He does so as well, noticing too that his joints don't make noise anymore like the last tests he did.

"Good, now, try and follow me out the door. I'll let Tal see you," she leads him out, ordering him to open the door as one more test, before dashing to the front, waiting for him to catch up. "Act natural; it'd be funny if he thinks you're an actual dragon!"

Funny: causing laughter or amusement; humorous.

He manages a stiff nod, but she didn't see, already sliding out into the hallway, locking the door after him.

This was the first time he's been outside of the room. A wave of heat rises from his core as he follows the Spiral, processing the possibilities; the thought that this is his first time outside jolts him. Soft, off-white lights line the ceiling, the walls golden and immaculately clean unlike the room he's made a stay in since... well, the beginning. The air smelt sweet and fresh, like the flowers that his creator brought in one day, for a test. Another test.

Before long, the two of them enter the through an arch, into a field of flowers. A garden?

The little plants littered the ground, hiding between blades of light green grass; flowers thrived here, planted in an orderly fashion that he deduced to be the work of another dragon. A few trees overhang the garden, bearing still green fruits and olive leaves. Warmth filled the air, the glass dome above keeping the heat and moisture in for the plants. A dragon, curled around a wooden chair, held a leather-bound book in his hands, leaning against the table before him. He was covered in scales of faded jade, different from the dark, bold Spiral he was used to. The dragon before him, another Spiral dragon, noticed the two approach, closing his book after dropping in a bookmark. He raises a brow.

"Who's... this? Not another one of your 'guests,' Argaesia? I know they signed up for your experiments, but you should still tell them what you do first," The male glanced at him flittingly, before shifting his eyes back towards her. "And again, please don't bring me into your shenanigans either. I don't think it's funny."

Argaesia. His maker's name. He took note of that.

"What's... your, name?" He manages to croak out; his voice hasn't been refined yet, still having a gravelly quality, the chords in his throat made of a material too stiff, according to Argaesia. It often caused abrupt stops in speech and for his voice to be too deep.

"Uh, I'm Talos, if you didn't know, I'm Argaesia's brother," Talos reaches out his hand after leaving his seat. "aaand I'd really advise you to just take the money and go home. It's not really worth it. Look what she's done to your voice already!"

"My-y...voice-ce?" His voice stuttered again. Argaesia side-eyed him, muttering to herself while making another note on the paper. "It'-s okay. I-I'm fine. I've... al-ways been... like th-is."

"You sure? You can go home if you really want to," Talos retracts his hand after no one taking it, still offering a slight smile. He seemed kind.

Kind: having or showing a friendly, generous, and considerate nature.

"Sheesh, I'm not torturing him. Again, the dragons I brought signed up voluntarily! I've only had an accident three times, I'm not hurting them on purpose! Stop scaring him," Argaesia defended herself, patting his shoulders. "Right?"

"Y-yeah. She is... a gre-at cre-ator. We do... a lot of... te-sts."

"Creator?" Talos asked. He notices that the Spiral has a pattern of raising his right brows. "What?"

"Uhhhh, well, thank you! So sweet of you! I am a great at...making science! Ha!" Argaesia side-eyed him again. He's not sure he understands. "Well, better get going now, I-"

"ARGAESIA! YOU NEED TO TRY ON OUTFITS FOR THE BANQUET!"

A voice booms from down the hall, making both Spirals jump.

"Coming, Aunt Adela, coming," Argaesia massaged her temples, sighing. She threw her clipboard to him. "Uh, go back to the lab and wait for me to come back."

Swiftly, the Spiral flew off, accompanied by a cacophony of yelling and complaining. Without another word, he followed his order and began heading back down the hallway.

"Alright, see you later, I guess," Talos calls behind him. "Don't get lost, the palace gets confusing."

And after heading into the winding halls, before long, Talos' advice came true. He had not recorded a map of the hallways as he followed Argaesia. He wasn't told to. He clunked around, clutching the clipboard tightly; he couldn't understand what she wrote on it, but he was sure he if couldn't find his way back, Argaesia would write something negative. Disappointment would describe the feeling best, according to his dictionary.

Disappoint: fail to fulfill the hopes or expectations of (someone).

A click of a talon against the marble floor alerted him. He snapped his head around. It was Talos, watching him with a slight turn of the head. He stared back.

"Didn't think I'd run into you again so soon, uh," Talos tapped his chin. "What's your name again? Sorry..."

"I, um..." He answers, gears clicking the best they could, trying to sound normal. He didn't want Talos to think he's... weird. Then again, it was almost a miracle Talos thought nothing of the electric power packs slung over his back, had not heard the mechanical clicking coming from his innards. "Um..."

Heat rose from inside his core from him thinking so hard, before he remembered the clipboard he was digging his nails into. Maybe Argaesia could've recorded something on there, like his name. He flitted his eyes to the first page of paper on the clipboard. Graphs etched from machines, messy handwriting, and strings of numbers covered the paper. He didn't understand any of it deeper than the meaning of the separate words, except for the two words printed across the top of the page:

Project Constantine.

"Uh, are you okay? You don't have to answer if you don't want to..." Talos said.

"Constantine," He manages to say, without breaking any of his words this time. "Th-that's-my na-me."

"Ah, okay! Nice to meet, you, Constantine," Talos smiled, reaching out his hand. "Glad to have a chance to get to know you without having my sister around and messing it up."

"M-me too," Constantine gripped the other's hand. So that was his name now. He has a name like Argaesia, like Talos... "Ye-yeah..."

—————